


Hunting Free

by BloodstainedBlonde



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, Bounty Hunter, M/M, Violence, vague themes of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 70,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodstainedBlonde/pseuds/BloodstainedBlonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a time not too long ago, when criminals escaped, a certain amount of money was to be rewarded for anyone who brought those criminals in, dead or alive. And when these rewards were set high enough, they'd attract a certain type of people. </p><p>Bounty hunters.</p><p>This is where Michael Jones comes in, directed by Geoff towards the highest paying bounties.</p><p>And Gavin Free certainly had a high price set on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's so short, it took me forever to decide on a first chapter ending.  
> I'll upload the next chapter tomorrow. 
> 
> Read & review, yo

Michael pulled the door open with a quiet creak and stepped outside, closing it behind him as he squinted his eyes against the harsh sunlight.

‘Michael!’ Geoff called out from where he was walking down the drive. Michael turned to him with a wave before he went back to shielding his eyes.

‘Yo,’ he greeted, warily watching as Geoff approached.

‘How you doing?’

Michael gave a shrug which could be taken as either good or bad, and Geoff just gave him a knowing smile. ‘I hope you weren’t going anywhere?’ he asked, waving around a bit of paper.

‘Only to the shop for food,’ Michael said dismissively, taking the piece of paper and holding it at an angle he could read it properly. ‘Another job?’ he questioned, surprised, glancing away from the headline and raising an eyebrow at Geoff.

‘Yeah, well,’ Geoff replied, scratching his head. ‘Burnie thinks it’d be well suited, and I have to agree.’

Michael just looked at him for another moment before starting to read the details. ‘Gavin Free, wanted for the murder of blah, blah and blah… two hundred thousand reward, last seen in Bard- Geoff, Bard?’

Geoff chuckled lightly. ‘It’s not that bad. And we don’t think he’s there anymore. The hunters after him are all searching the surrounding towns, thinking he’s trying to slip in unnoticed. But I don’t think so.’

Michael looked at him for a moment, thoughtfully chewing on his lip. ‘The plains?’ he asked, and Geoff nodded. Michael responded with a groan.

‘It’s so fucking _far._ I _hate_ the plains,’ Michael complained bitterly. ‘And it’s so damn hot!’

Geoff laughed. ‘Dude, its hot everywhere. You only don’t think it’s hot here because you spend all your fucking time indoors.’ He paused. ‘Well, when you’re not out on a job.’

‘Outdoors sucks,’ Michael muttered bitterly, squinting his eyes at the ground.

‘This used to be outdoors,’ Geoff pointed out, gesturing to the headquarters they were stood in front of.

‘And it’s not anymore.’ Michael replied smugly, ‘That’s a horrible argument.’

Geoff just rolled his eyes and gestured to the paper impatiently. ‘Well?’

Michael stood for a moment, considering. ‘Deal. Though I doubt I’d have much choice if you really wanted it.’

‘That’s true,’ Geoff admitted. ‘The bounty has been out for a week now, and it just got upped to its current price. They said they’d consider upping it again in another week if he’s not found, probably just by fifty thousand.’

Michael scanned the rest of the paper, soaking up the current information and the picture of the man as he spoke. ‘They being the family, I assume?’ At Geoff’s curt nod he folded the paper and put it in his pocket. ‘Well, I’ll fucking do it. Do I have to see anyone?’ 

‘Nope. I’ll tell Burnie you accepted it. He’ll be pleased.’ Geoff reached out and ruffled Michael’s hair, ignoring his annoyed glare. ‘When do you think you’ll be ready?

‘Two days?’ Michael offered.

Geoff considered it.

‘You could do better, but you did only get back a little while ago. Alright, take your time. Just make sure you drop in and see me before you’re off. And Michael,’ he added, seeing Michael turn to leave, ‘Pack fucking properly. You know what I mean.’

At Michael's annoyed look Geoff grinned. ‘Water!’ he sung, ‘Water water water.'

‘How the fuck are you the boss of this shit?’ Michael muttered rhetorically as he pushed past.

‘Lots of heavy heavy water for little Michael to carry across the plains,' Geoff taunted gleefully. 

‘I’m gunna be dragging your dead body across the plains if you don’t shut up!’ Michael threatened, shaking his head as he made his way out the gate to his original destination.

Geoff just grinned and entered the building, having faith in the hunter.

 

\---

‘So, you dropped in to Ryan for everything you needed?’ Geoff asked, nonchalantly pushing some empty liquor bottles into the bin beside the table.

‘Yeah, he gave me some extra stuff too, which was pretty cool. Can’t say I’m much good with a bow and arrow though,’ Michael admitted, admiring the weapon.

‘But... you’ve used one before?’ Geoff asked. At Michael’s indignant look he put his hands in the air in surrender. ‘Don’t fucking glare me to death, just asking.’

Michael rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever.’ He did another glance at his pack, double checked his sword, and straightened. ‘Do you have any extra information on this guy?’ he questioned, pulling out the paper which, no surprise, had already been folded and refolded multiple times.

Geoff shook his head. ‘No, just what’s on the paper and what I’ve already told you. Mid-twenties, tall, lanky, blondey, whatever hair with weird haircut, foreign, hunted for the murder of three children – two young girls and their older brother. Kid’s family’s insane with grief and paying hell money to get him done in, and that’s what we’re here for!’ He announced the end happily, and Michael could practically see the images of money flashing before Geoff's eyes.

He snorted. ‘You couldn’t hunt to save your life,' he muttered, knowing full well that that wasn’t true. Geoff Ramsey and his wife Griffon had earned quite a reputation for themselves, and they weren’t afraid to enforce it. Michael knew nobody would be messing with their daughter.

Geoff just laughed. ‘Don’t talk shit about your elders, I’ll fuck you up.’

Michael didn't bother repressing a smile.

‘You know the path you're planning on taking?’ Geoff asked, flicking a glance up at him.

‘Yeah, I’ll go straight for it.’

Geoff nodded, chewing over the words. ‘You might get a bit fucked coming back though, since they reckon the river's going to flood.’

Michael pulled a face. ‘Fucking- really? That sucks dick. It adds so much fucking time when you have to go around. It’s fucking horse shit.’ 

‘Back when I was a lad-’ Geoff started, but started laughing before he could continue. 

‘Shut up,' Michael scoffed. 'You can’t even tell a fucking story,' he snorted.

Geoff just laughed again. ‘Alright well, you know what you’re doing, you’ve been doing it for years. So if you’re ready?’

Michael nodded. ‘I’m good to go. I’ll be back, you know, whenever.’

‘With this dickhead in tow?’ Geoff asked, sitting himself down in front of a desk no longer covered in liquour bottles.

‘With this dickhead in tow,’ Michael confirmed, nodding to Geoff as he pulled open the door and left. He passed Jack in the hallway, construction papers in hand, and he gave him a quick smile. ‘Busy?’ he asked, and Jack laughed.

‘Building houses keeps a man in shape,' he said, and continued on the way.

Michael spun around. ‘Oh, have you seen Ryan?’ he asked, and Jack tilted his head back the way he’d come. ‘Thanks.’ He rounded the corner and saw said man chatting to Barbara. ‘Hey, Ryan. I just wanted to say thanks again.’

Ryan nodded. ‘No problem, it’s what I do.’

Michael nodded, out of things to say. ‘Alright, well, I’m off,' he said, waving awkwardly and wincing at himself.

‘Good luck!’ they called in unison, and turned back to their chatting. Michael adjusted his backpack and started to walk. He passed the gates, waving to Kerry and Miles, the watchmen, and exited without problem.

He looked out ahead of him, the dusty road ahead of him stretching on for what seemed like forever. Pulling the paper out of his pocket, he studied the already familiar face of the hunted man.

‘Gavin Free,’ Michael whispered to himself, scanning the paper once more before tucking it safely back in his pocket.

‘I’m coming for you.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's this chapter now i'm not sure why 
> 
> Read & review, yo

That night, Michael set up camp next to the riverbed he’d been following. He started lighting the fire, well enough away from where most bandits roamed to actually take the chance of lighting it but still cautious enough to keep it small and hidden.

As he went through the familiar notions, he started considering his next move.

Ardinsworth, Aleya, Robgins and Tarn were the only four towns between him and the plains. Michael could pass straight over Ardinsworth in favour of heading straight for Aleya, where he could more than likely find a place to stay the night.

If he couldn’t, he could always sleep rough again. It certainly wasn’t new to him. It kind of came with the job expectations of a bounty hunter. Regardless of whether he could find a proper place to crash the night or not, he planned to get walking early the next morning and make it to Robgins by afternoon, where he could stock up on supplies (assuming he went through them at his regular rate, which he was certain he would) and be on his way again.

So if all went according to plan he’d be in Tarn by the day after tomorrow, where he’d rest and recuperate for the night. After that, he’d be ready to hit the plains and start his search for Free by the next morning.

Fuck yeah. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered. Certainly more stable than some of the other plans Michael had come up with overnight.

With the fire successfully lit he grabbed his sword and lay it close to him, snug on his right hand side, within easy reach if bandits or wild animals were to attack over the night. It had happened before, and though his location was far from the town, he knew it was by no means impossible for bandits to be roaming here. Or for the fire to die out and animals to approach, but he was confident enough in the fire he had going to sleep for a while, which was what he had planned to do until he realised- he couldn’t sleep.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back and stared into the sky for a while. It was a beautiful night, not an outline of a cloud blocking any stars in sight. It was beautiful, not too cold, and quiet. Perfect for sleeping.

Heaving a sigh, Michael rolled onto his side, facing his weapons and the fire. He pulled out the paper in his pocket, unfolding it delicately and just staring at it. He found himself wondering, for not the first time in his life, why the people he hunted did what they did.

Why would this fuck kill three young kids? From what Michael knew he’d had no family relation, or had even known who they were. There was no occupation listed, but there rarely ever was, so that could leave the man with any number of jobs.

He didn’t look the part of a killer, either, and though it sounded stereotypical, in Michael’s opinion there really was something you could see about most people he hunted. The hardness of their face, that lack of innocence.

Regardless of the poor quality, the man in the picture didn’t have that hardened look to him. He just looked normal, and that was the excuse Michael used for staring at the picture so long, for memorising the features of the man he’d soon be leading to his death.

He fell asleep holding the picture.

\---

When he awoke, he was pleased to see the fire had dwindled but not completely gone out. There was no sign of anything being stolen (not that he had much of any real value, besides his sword) or any indication that someone had been around his camp.

Trusting his instincts, Michael stood, stuffing the paper that had remained next to him in his pocket and slipping the bow and arrow over his shoulder. He pulled out the food he’d allocated for himself that morning and chewed quietly away as he started to pack his things.

Already sweating disgustingly heavily, Michael closed his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder once more. 'Motherfucker', he sighed, knowing it was going to be at least a five hour walk until the next town, and wished not for the first time that he could somehow magically gain the ability to fly.

He entertained himself with that train of thought as the day wore on, but his steps remained quick and his head high. Bored though he may have been, he was also a bounty hunter, and a bloody good one at that, so while he may have appeared bored and inattentive on the outside, he was still paying very much attention to his body, his pace and his surroundings.

So when the clouds began to gather on the edge of the horizon, a dark storm brewing that was undoubtedly heading straight for him, it didn’t go unnoticed.

At first he didn’t quite see it, having not the best eyesight, but as the temperatures dropped the air pressure did too, and his body picked up on it immediately. He stopped, a shiver running through him at the sudden change in air pressure, and he turned.

‘Fucking _shit,_ ’ he cursed. This was not good. The clouds were approaching quickly, coming as fast as being an approaching storm cloud would allow, and Michael was still an hourish off the next town at his current walking pace. He knew he needed to find cover, because while it was survivable, getting caught in any storm -let alone one as angry as the one approaching- was never fun. At least, not when he was destination bound.

Considering his options, he quickly figured that getting to Ardinsworth was his best bet, and he picked up his pace significantly. He’d been by no means dawdling before, but now his steps were hurried and focused, trying to get him as close as possible to the nearest cover without exhausting himself.

‘Fucking _fuck me_ in the _A!_ ’ he yelled, giving his most deadly glare to the thunder that sounded behind him, and a quick glance backwards told him he wasn’t going to make it without getting soaked. The town was in sight now, and he was maybe fifteen minutes off, but the storm was nearly on top of him. He had maybe five minutes before it hit.

Throwing dignity to the wind he started to run, figuring that he’d rather deal with people possibly laughing at him for _almost_ getting caught in the storm than _actually_ getting caught in the storm. He ignored the flicker of embarrassment he felt, feeling like a tool as he ran, and focused on not wasting his efforts and actually getting to the damn town in time.

He all but growled in frustration when he heard the rain start up behind him. He was so damn close to the fucking town, maybe another minute at this pace and he’d be there, but the clouds were swirling overhead and the rain was _just_ behind him.

For any outsiders, it would have seemed hilarious, watching a grown man pelt inside the gates and duck under an awning just in time for the rain to hit. It would have been even more hilarious watching the victory dance, and the way he punched the air before he collapsed against the wall to catch his breath.

‘Fucking suck my dick, bitch!’ Michael yelled, flipping the storm off for good measure as he straightened, breath sufficiently caught for him to take more than cursory glance around. He looked at his surroundings, pulling a face when he realised to get to the nearest motel cover he’d have to go through the rain.

Giving up on that idea, he turned to the shop he was currently standing refuge in front of. He blinked at the face he saw peering at him from the counter, and he opened the door with a grin, ignoring the twinkling of the bell that announced his entry.

‘Uh, sup,’ he said, running a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry about the… that.’

The woman, red hair down to her chest and warm eyes twinkling, gave a laugh. ‘No problem. I’m Lindsay,’ she greeted, and Michael used the guise of looking at the little pin on name tag she had to admire her.

‘Uh, sorry. Michael,’ he greeted, flashing a grin. 

Lindsay raised an eyebrow but smiled. ‘What can I do you for?’ she asked, and Michael looked around the store, what seemed to be his entire world lighting up as he realised it was a bar.

‘Life is worth living again,' he groaned, collapsing down at the seat. 'A  _bar.'_

 _'_ A bar indeed,' she confirmed, a quirk to her lips giving away her amusement.

'Just what I needed. Marry me.'

‘Since you asked so nicely,' she shrugged, picking up a glass to clean it.

Michael pursed his lips as he squinted past her at the display, trying to focus his shitty eyesight enough to read the labels. 'I'm free in a few weeks.'

'It's a date. And I get to decorate,' she replied, just as nonchalantly, 'but you can pick guests.'

He gave her a suspicious once over. 'You look like a cat person. Please don't make it cat themed. Anything but cat themed.'

She looked affronted. 'Well, now you're just not worth it.'

They looked at each other and laughed, feeling an easy connection spark between them. From the back and forth they'd already adopted, her easy going nature seemed to fit perfectly with his, and he said as much.

Lindsay shrugged. 'I'm great like that. And, I'm all for wedding planners. I'll hook you up one day. I'm L-Tugg, hilarious wingwoman and lesbian extraordinaire.' She gestured to the bar. ‘Do you know what you want?’ 

Michael laughed so rapidly he nearly choked on his spit. 'If you have a tag, it would be something along "subtlety's not my game", because I felt that burn from outer space. Don't worry, I'm not a dick, I'll take a hint.'

'Keep it up and that wedding might just be back on.'

Michael snorted. 'Gee, thanks. And I’ll take a whiskey.’ 

‘Just the one?’ she confirmed, reaching down to pour him a glass.

‘Yeah. Here on business, I guess,' he admitted, accepting the glass and taking a small sip, relishing the burn it left in his throat.

‘Most people just down it,’ Lindsay informed him, two delicate eyebrows raising. Michael spluttered.

‘I know how to drink! I’m just having the one though, so I might as well savour it,' he defended. 'Shut up, don't pick on me. It's not fair.'

‘Ooh, very defensive. One might think you don't actually know how to drink.'

'One might think _shut up_.'

'Nice comeback, ten out of ten. Would get burned again.' 

'Thanks, I stayed up late working on it.' He sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face, muttering underneath his breath, 'I only had  _all fucking night_.'

She overheard and leaned in conspiratorially. 'Couldn't sleep? Too many hookers?'

'Jesus Christ,' he laughed. 'You're fucking forward for a girl I met ten minutes ago. I like it. Nah, here on business, and the douche fuck in the picture I was looking at had a nose that haunted my goddamn dreams.'

She tilted her head back and laughed before shaking her head in amusement. 'What'd you say, here on business, right?’ she asked, leaning on the counter.

‘Yeah. Bounty hunter,' he confided carelessly. 

‘Nice,' she approved. ‘Work for anyone? Or are you like, a one man guy?’

‘I’m a one woman guy, that’s for sure,' he joked.

'You are incorrigible.' 

'It's my irresistable personality. And I uh, work for Achievement Hunter.’

‘Oh, sweet, dude, I know Barbara from there, you know her?' Lindsay asked, looking genuinely excited. Michael looked up, surprised.

‘Yeah, I know Barb, she’s lovely. Want me to tell her you say hi next time I see her?’ he offered. He stopped and reconsidered. ‘Well fuck, actually, you might see her before me, since I don’t know how long this’ll take.’

Lindsay smiled. ‘I’ll probably see her before you. I’ll tell her I met a hella dope guy out on business who kept using cheesy pick up lines and bad innuendos.’

‘No,' he laughed, downing the rest of his drink, 'don’t do that, she’ll beat me up!'

‘Your point?’

At Michael’s mock indignant look she grinned. ‘So, you just waiting for the storm to pass before you head off again?’ The question was conversational, matching the casual way she spun a glass around her finger on the wooden counter.

‘Yeah. Fuck that, I'm too attractive to get soaked in the rain.'

‘I could give you a ride,' she offered, and he was about to decline when she interrupted. ‘Not me, personally, I have to stay and watch the shop. Plus, I got better shit to do. But our grocer, he’s out back dropping off, and he’s got a cart with a roof. You’re headed off to Aleya, right?’ At Michael’s nod she continued. ‘So’s he. And he’ll happily take you along.’

‘Most people aren’t that open to bounty hunters,’ Michael said doubtfully. 'I don't want some jackass trying to fuck me up. Dis bitch is on a job.'

‘This guy won't, he’s great. Trust me, I love cats, and cat lovers are automatically trustworthy. And it’s a free lift, so why not?’

Considering it, Michael pursed his lips and nodded. ‘Alright. Thanks. How much for the whiskey?’ he asked, reaching down to get his money satchel. She shook her head.

‘Free. I'm cool like that.’

‘No, no way,' he argued. 'I ain't no cheap hoe, you can't win me over with free drinks.'

‘Damn, you got me. You foiled my plan. And yes way. We get a lot of customers here.’ She laughed and shooed him away from the counter. ‘I’ll take you out back, come on.’

Rolling his eyes but not giving in, he waited until she turned before quickly slapping a few coins on the counter and following her out.

‘Joel!’ Lindsay was calling to the man stacking up food in the back room. ‘Joel!’

‘What, I’m here, what?’ he asked, standing quickly and nearly hitting his head on a shelving unit. ‘Ah, fuck. I mean shit. No, fudge. Are you okay?’ he asked, turning to face them as Lindsay hurried into the room, Michael following close behind her. Joel narrowed his eyes and took a menacing step towards him when Lindsay stopped him, stepping between them.

‘No, no it’s nothing like that. Down, Joel, who's a good boy? Joel, Michael. Michael's a bounty hunter, and he needs a lift.’

The darkness on the man’s face instantly cleared and he smiled. ‘Why didn’t you say that? Welcome aboard!’ he declared, thrusting his hand out for Michael to shake. When Michael blinked, a bit thrown by the sudden change in demeanour, Joel just laughed.

‘I’m Joel, by the way,' he winked, and moved his hand side to side to bring Michael’s attention back to it.

‘Oh! Fuck, yeah. Sorry. Hi, I’m Michael.’ Michael laughed, embarrassed, taking the man’s hand and shaking it firmly.

‘Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be ready in five minutes, so-’

Lindsay interrupted, waving her hands about. ‘No, go. I’ll get it, all the heavy lifting’s done. Not that I couldn't do it, I'm a woman of steel, but I prefer to direct my focus to more important things. Like women. And money. Just call me L-Thug.’

'Jesus Christ,' Michael shook his head.

‘But who’ll manage the shop-’ Joel started. 

Lindsay interrupted again, holding up a finger in a waiting gesture. A second later the bell rang, and a man’s voice rang out through the shop. ‘Lindsay?’ he called, and she put the finger to her lips.

‘Back here Dad! Just having a word with Joel!’ she yelled back, and waved Michael into the cart. ‘In, in, go!’ she encouraged, voice down at a whisper, and Michael did as he was told. Joel gave her a quick hug before he climbed up and they left.

‘Was everything delivered okay?’ they heard the man ask, before they couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the horses and trundling wheels.

‘What was that all about?’ Michael asked. Joel turned around, looking almost surprised, like he’d forgotten he’d taken aboard the young man.

‘Hm? Oh! Lindsay’s father isn’t the kindest towards bounty hunters, it’s nothing personal. He just wouldn’t have approved. Young men and all that, the whole "kids these days" spiel.' Joel shook his head. 'Kids these days,' he muttered fondly, turning back to face the front.

‘Oh,’ Michael nodded, squinting at the back of his head in confusion. ‘How’d she know he was gunna get there, is she like psychic or something?’ 

Joel chuckled. ‘No. Her father just arrives every day at the same time.’

Michael felt foolish. ‘Oh,’ he said again, smiling slightly. ‘Sorry to be annoying if I am, I’m just curious,’ he waited for Joel to glance back at him before continuing. ‘How long till we get to Aleya?’

‘A few hours. Maybe three,’ the man said, and Michael nodded, content.

‘Thanks, man,’ he said, and settled in to get comfortable. Three hours wasn’t too bad. It’d get him there early, but he wouldn’t be able to do anything once he was there, unless he wanted to get a head start of about two hours on walking to Robgins, which he wasn’t sure was worth the effort.

However, he didn’t want to waste the extra time he’d gained by scoring the free ride. He pulled a face and shrugged, closing his eyes as the cart trundled along. He’d decide when he got there.


	3. Chapter 3

When he awoke again, he was being shaken awake by the kind face of Joel. ‘What?’ Michael mumbled blearily. He’d already decided there was no immediate threat, so his body took its sweet ass time adjusting from _comfortably asleep_ to _annoyingly awake._

‘Ride’s over, I’m afraid. Aleya, at your service.’ Joel gestured around him with a flourish. ‘I’d love to let you sleep but I really need to fill the cart up, and you happen to be obstructing that. So kindly get out.'

He flashed a smile to show he was joking.

Michael quickly blinked himself awake. ‘Shit, sorry! No, thank you so much, you’ve been a huge help, Jesus,' Michael thanked him profusely as he scrambled out of the cart. ‘You totally saved my ass.’

Joel laughed. ‘Not a problem.’

‘I can pay you, here...’ Michael started, fumbling again for his satchel.

Joel just waved a hand dismissively. ‘Money’s not the most important thing in the world for people like us.’

Michael would have persisted, because most people say that to be polite, but he could see the man meant his words.

‘It’s about helping people,’ Joel said, and once Michael was out of the way he lead the cart over to where it needed to be filled. Michael took a moment to observe the man, committing the stranger and the act of kindness he’d done for Michael to memory.

Unfortunately, it was time for Michael to go.

‘Bye!’ he yelled, not giving a fuck to how unprofessional he sounded, and a small pang hit him. He felt a strange attachment to the man and the girl he’d recently met, and he vowed to come back and visit them. When Joel turned and waved to him one last time Michael smiled and turned, trying to decide what to do.

 

‘I’ll get a head start, ye,' he decided to himself. He felt good, the storm was clearing, and he felt like getting something done. He hoisted his pack up and started looking around for the nearest place that he could buy supplies from.

Money was no problem to him, and in the unlikely case he was robbed, he'd hidden several high value coins all over his person - in one pants pocket, in his satchel, in the breast pocket, his shoe, his sock ect. Even bearing in mind the unlikelihood of him being successfully robbed, it was even more improbable they'd be able to get every single thing of worth on his person.

So money wise, he was comfortable. All he had to do before beginning his walk to Robgins was _find_ a damn store that sold it. He stopped in his tracks as he realised where he had just come from.

'Tell me I didn't..' he started, whirling back to face the way he'd came, but to his disappointment (and relief, at least he wasn't a complete idiot) the place Joel was filling his cart from was simply a source - it had no distinguishable entrances that would indicate it being a place to sell, instead of just a place to replenish deliveries.

'Jesus Christ,' he muttered, turning back around. So, yeah, good news, he wasn't an idiot, but it still remained he needed to find a food store. Grumbling lightly to himself, he carried onwards, walking for a good nother fifteen minutes before he found himself in the town centre, standing in front of one of the smallest food stores he'd ever seen.

Michael blinked a few times, shrugging, and entered. He wasn't surprised to see a dismal variety, but at the very least they had travelling basics, so he could stock up enough to get to Tarn comfortably, assuming there was no problems.

Of course, knowing Michael's luck, there probably _would_ be problems, so he sighed, mentally debated with himself and walked out of the store with enough food to last him at least a week.

He groaned. He had a long way to walk, and his pack was now _officially_ heavy as fuck. He should have just had faith in himself to hunt and forage on the way. 

This shit never got old.

 

 --- 

‘I’m the stupidest piece of shit,’ Michael grumbled to himself as he unpacked his things. ‘In the _world,'_ he added, shaking his curls out of his face when the wind blew them into it. ‘What the hell was I thinking, walking out here, I could be in a hotel right now.’

Despite his grumbling, he knew the decision was a good one, because he’d gotten a solid three hours further than he’d originally planned, and any extra time was good. He just wasn’t particularly happy that he’d made the rookie mistake of waiting until dark to set up camp, because on a night as windy as this, lighting fires wasn’t, by any stretch, particularly easy.

He also hadn’t let himself get the best idea of his surroundings, and by the time he’d given up at getting to a vantage point he was in a bad position, right out in the open. He hadn’t expected to get as far out as he did, and for Michael Jones, backtracking was out of the question, so he’d sighed and started to set up camp.

Eventually, after constructing a weak wind block, he managed to get the fire going, just enough to keep him warm through the (presumably cold) night, and hopefully low enough not to attract any unwanted visitors. Groaning, he flopped himself down next to it, his trusty sword within reach and bow and arrow just off to the side, hidden underneath his blanket.

He’d just been blinking off to sleep when he heard a quiet rustling to his left, a susurration that to most others would have gone unnoticed. As it was though, he wasn’t most others, so that tiny noise put him instantly on high alert, his mind racing through the options.

Another noise; a footstep, just to the left.

_Too deliberate to be a wild animal, too-_

A whisper.

_People, then. Bandits?_

He strained his ears, giving no indication that he was awake, desperately trying to figure out how many there were and what direction they were coming from. He mentally placed himself in correlation to the flickering of the almost dead fire.

He was still facing it, so his sword was within easy reach. He gently peeked an eye open, body relaxing fractionally with relief that it was still there, and prepared himself.

Without a noise he was up, blanket flying off him in the direction of the intruders, temporarily stunning one as he grabbed his sword and swung it in front of him, assuming a defensive position. There were two in front of him, but bandits rarely travelled in pairs, so it was safe to assume-

 _There._ Behind him, a heavy footfall indicated the beginning of an attack, so Michael ducked, whirling around with his sword and catching the man in the stomach. He felt a flash of relief when the fire sparked, lighting up to show the leather and weaponry that was usual of a bandit.

 _Didn’t kill an innocent man, then._ Michael thought as he quickly regained his balance and lashed out with his foot, sending the already injured man crashing to the ground with a groan. He twisted around, flicking out with his sword just in time to clash with the other man’s weapon.

 _It’s too long, his hold is all wrong, he’s unbalanced – not his sword, he’s inexperienced,_  part of Michael’s mind noted as he pulled back and thrust out, impaling the man in the stomach. Pulling a disgusted face, Michael withdrew his sword, ignoring the _squelch_ noise the action made and parried the final man’s attack.

He lashed out with his foot and caught the man in the knee, dislocating it, and Michael quickly shoved forward with both hands and sent the man to the ground. He stood above him, his sword to the man’s throat, and held it there.

‘Anyone send you?’ he demanded, even though it was doubtful. These men were inexperienced, the weapons obviously stolen. They were probably just going to threaten him and take what they thought of value.

The sword pressed painfully hard against the neck of the whimpering man when Michael realised they would have stolen his sword.

 _His_ sword. The fucking _nerve._

Michael shook his head, realising he was getting worked up over something he couldn’t afford to get worked up over. He also realised he hadn’t received an answer, so after a quick glance around to make sure the others were still dead or dying and he was still alone he crouched.

‘Don’t make me ask again,' he threatened, voice menacing and low, and the man whimpered quietly.

‘No, no. Just, just us, we weren’t gunna do anything, honest!’ the man cried, and once he found his voice he wouldn’t stop talking, garbled pleas and begs for mercy tumbling endlessly from his lips.

‘Shut up,' Michael groaned. ‘You know what the price is for stealing?’ he asked, directing his gaze pointedly at his sword, and the man’s eyes widened as he started choking on his words. ‘Yeah, I think it's safe to say that you do,’ Michael nodded.

He stepped on the man’s arm, the other foot on his throat, and brought his sword up. ‘You’re lucky this is all you get.’

He swung his sword down.

There was silence for a moment before the man started screaming, bringing his injured limb up to eye level, face draining of colour when he realised he didn’t have a hand anymore.

Michael packed his things quickly, relieved that the sun was rising. After a minute of the man’s continued screaming he lost his patience. ‘If you don’t shut up I’ll slit your throat,' he warned, and the man made an effort to quieten. ‘Good.’ He finished packing his things in silence.

‘There’s a heated rock from the fire that you can use to cauterize. You know, burn the wound shut.’ He offered cheerily. ‘Don’t want to die of blood loss, now do we?’

And with that he started wayward again, leaving the injured bandit to crawl towards the rock with a look of terror on his face.

‘You can scream now!’ Michael called back. Not that he would have killed him for it in the first place. He wasn’t one to kill in cold blood, only in self-defence or when the time called for it. He’d just really wanted the man to shut up.

'Why do I always sound so badass when nobody is around?' he asked the empty air around him, frown on his face. 'Bullshit.'

He started off again, wondering if the man was going to take his advice or die of blood loss. Michael had his answer when the screams started up again, this time more agony then shock, and abruptly stopped.

Surmising that the man had just passed out from shock, Michael shrugged. Not his fault that they were idiotic enough to actually try and attack him, regardless of the fact they outnumbered him three to one.

Honestly, they obviously were new to it, because their clothes didn't have that rugged, legitimately worn and torn look that any experienced bandits usually had. Well, unless they were the painfully intelligent type that disguised themselves as civilians or hunters. Fucking S.O.B's were the most annoying people out there, and Michael would know.

Which, those bandits evidently _weren't,_ if the ease that Michael had dispatched them with spoke anything. He wasn't complaining though, because their inexperience and plain stupidity had allowed him to escape unscathed.

Also, they'd woken him up as the sun rose, and there was no better time to get started. Really, they'd done him a favour.

He hummed a tune to himself as he walked, one that was at first mindless but eventually morphed and grew into a tune he'd known since he was young, one that he couldn't for the life of him place. Running lists through his head of the very few songs he properly knew, he still couldn't recognise exactly where he knew it from.

Deciding it wasn't really worth his time, he turned his mind from that and automatically began running over his plan, searching for any major holes or turning points, but his mind slowly wandered from his travelling plans and hunting ideas, onto the focus of this all.

The reason he was here.

Gavin Free.

The multi-murdering, on the run male with one of the highest paying bounties Michael had seen yet. It was impressive, really, what people would offer in their idiotic need for revenge. Having Free killed wouldn't get their children back, it never would, but Michael supposed he could understand the need to see some type of justice, to see the one who caused that much pain pay.  
  
To be fair, Michael could admit that he would probably do the same, feel the same ridiculously understandable urge to hold whoever did whatever they did accountable for their actions, if something happened to the people he cared about. This really only included Geoff and Griffon, but that's not to say he didn't care for the other people he lived and worked with.

Except, he wouldn't just put out a bounty on the head of the person unfortunate enough to mess with him.

He'd hunt the fuckers down himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say, um  
> enjoy yeah

When he arrived at the town of Robgins, dirty and covered in dust, Michael wasn't in the most pleasant of moods. Who the fuck would figure there'd be a fucking dust storm at this particular place? Granted, there was a lot of dirt, and there was a lot of dust, and it was a town right between the mountains so all the wind got directed down here, but still.

Pretty unfucking fair that Michael got caught right in the middle of it. ‘First normal storms, now this?’ he whined, completely disregarding that the first storm had scored him a free ride and a few hours advantage on his journey.

He loathed the gritty feeling his entire body had, and the way his clothes rubbed it into him only added to his general anger. He hated wasting the hours Joel had given him, but there was no way he could continue like this, so he decided he’d stop at a hotel, shower and eat, then be on his way again.

But glancing around, he couldn’t see a single goddamn hotel in sight. There would obviously be one, because what kind of town fucking _didn’t,_ but the fact remained he’d been searching for nearly half an hour and he _couldn’t fucking find one._

Frustrated, he swallowed his pride and approached an elderly looking man making his way down the street.

‘Yo,’ Michael greeted, and frowned. He should probably be more respectful. ‘I mean uh, excuse me,' he tried again, pulling a face at himself, and the man turned.

‘What?'

Michael blinked, affronted. ‘Uh, sorry to interrupt your… walking… but, could you give me directions to the nearest hotel?’ Michael asked. ‘Please?’ he tacked on, not wanting to appear rude.

The man considered him for a moment. ‘Not from around here, then?’ he asked, and Michael resisted the urge to snap back at him.

‘Nope!’ he said instead, smiling in an attempt to come across as not murderous.

‘Hmm,’ the man said, scratching his beard. Michael waited impatiently for a few seconds, his foot tapping of its own accord.

‘So, um, this hotel?’ he tried, still smiling.

‘You want a hotel?’ the man repeated.

‘I just _said_ \- Yes, a hotel. _Please,’_ Michael said, trying to reign in his impatience.

‘Well, we don’t have many hotels round here,' the man said, still scratching his beard.

‘That’s fine, just any hotel will do,' Michael urged, blowing air out of his nostrils angrily.

‘Hmm,’ the man said again. Michael was about to give up and just walk away when the man started to nod slowly. Michael turned back and waited, and the man continued to nod. ‘A hotel,’ he repeated eventually.

Michael very near screamed. 'You know, I’ll just go ask someone else. Thank you for your time,' he said through his teeth, and began to walk away.

‘Above the pubs is all we’ve got, son,' the man said, hand dropping from his beard to rest on his cane.

‘The pubs! Right. Thank you!’ Michael said, and walked away before realising the man was standing in front of pub doors. He froze, realising he'd just embarrassed himself, and he'd get the joy of doing it again by passing the old man by. ‘Cunt _licker.’_ Michael swore quietly to himself, smiling politely at the man and walked back past him and pushing the pub doors open to find it surprisingly empty for midday.

He sidled up to the bar, greeting the man serving with a nod. ‘Just a whiskey, thanks,' he said, pulling out the appropriate amount of money and laying it on the counter. The man took it with a nod of his own, quickly glancing to make sure it was the right amount before he started pouring the drink.

Taking no offense, Michael took a seat on the stool there, next to one of the only other patrons of the bar. The man he was next to raised his head, looked Michael up and down and went back to sleep.

Michael muffled a small snicker and waited patiently for his drink. When it was delivered to him he kicked it back, feeling slightly better already. He thanked the guy and stood, glancing around before his eyes came to a stop at a staircase on the right corner of the room.

Shrugging, he made his way up the rotting wood and stopped in front of the reception desk.

‘Hi,' he greeted the lady there, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

‘Hello. How many nights?’ she requested in a voice that reminded Michael of the grating, low pitched whine of a tractor.

‘Just one, thanks. Actually, I won’t even be here for longer than two hours, but I’ll pay you for a full night and fuck right off- uh, go on my way after that, so you can lend it out to people tonight anyway.’

She looked doubtful. 'You pay for a night you stay for a night,' she droned, and Michael raised an eyebrow.

‘But you’d get the extra money for free,' he said slowly, as if she was a child.

‘This is a hotel not a prostitution club; we don’t work by the hour.’ 

‘I fuc- Fine. I’ll stay the night,’ he lied, pushing the coins towards her.

‘Company policy,' she said as explanation. 'Sorry.'

Michael resisted the urge to point out she didn't sound very sorry at all.

‘Thanks,' he said, equally as insincerely, and he followed her pointed finger down the hall. ‘Fuckin' company policy my ass,' he complained, making his way down the hall. He opened the door and shut it behind him.

As he’d assumed, the room matched the rest of the building, old and run down, in dire need of a paint job and reeking desperately of sweat and despair. Wrinkling his nose, he added mould to the sensory assault list and headed straight for the shower.

He looked in on it, shuddering, and prayed he didn’t catch many diseases. He’d have been better off bathing in the river, if it wasn’t so fucking cold. Maybe a horse trough. Anything could be better than this.

Regardless, he pushed aside his disgust and stripped himself bare, stepping into the stall cautiously, doing his best to avoid the walls as he slunk out of the way of the running water. He waited for it to heat up before stepping under it, and he couldn’t deny the feeling of the muck and grime that covered him being washed away was sensational.

He absolutely did _not_ moan.

He stayed there for a while, just revelling in the feeling of cleanness, despite his filthy surroundings.

When he felt satisfactorily clean he stepped out, forgoing the filthy looking towel in favour of just shaking himself dry. He removed the spare change of clothes from his backpack, and looked at his dirtied ones in consideration.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to clean them, he stuffed them in his backpack in case he couldn’t find a clothing shop and exited the room.

He made his way downstairs and dumped the key on the counter, ignoring the spiteful look the lady gave him, as if he’d offended her personally, ( _good_ ) and continued on till he was outside. The rest of the town was nice, on par with most other towns in this day and age. It figures that Michael had picked the one run down, dilapidated building in the whole place to be his temporary haven.

Groaning, he glanced around, and in comparison to his less than good luck lately (are the Gods against him? What the fuck did he do?) he spotted a clothing store almost instantly. Brightening up, he made his way quickly over and it entered.

It didn’t take him long to find a pair of pants suitable for trekking in, and he ended up picking two extra shirts for his journey. He briefly considered a hat, disregarded the notion, then reconsidered when he realised he would be out in the plains, in the heat, for a while to come.

He bypassed the more sensible sunhats in favour of picking up a head hugger (he later learned it was a beanie) and tugged it on, admiring himself. Grabbing a similar looking one, he took his pile to the desk where the girl sitting there waited for him to pay.

Something was missing. He narrowed his eyes as he realised what.

‘Hey, I don’t suppose you got any more of that chocolate?’ he asked hopefully.

The girl looked at him blandly. ‘We’re all out.’

He eyed the remaining unopened chocolate bar in her hand, and flicked his eyes up to her hopefully.

 

\---

Michael munched happily on his chocolate bar as he exited the store, a pair of pants, two shirts and two beanies richer. He was unconcerned at the loss of money, because he knew what he’d be reimbursed for capturing Free would be well worth the while.

Smiling lazily, he made his way out the gates of Robgins, knowing he’d be travelling well through the night to get to Tarn by morning. He figured he’d either rest and recover for the day there, and start the next morning, or head off into the plains later that night.

He didn’t have much of a plan to tackle the plains, because you couldn’t really make one. Thankfully, they weren’t that big in comparison to the desert, and they were surrounded on all sides by towns, Tarn being one of them.

He knew there would likely be no other hunters in there, because most people would assume that since the exit gates were shut, and the plains was an area smack in the middle of four towns, no-one with a bounty on their head would set foot in there.

But Geoff thought he was hiding in there somewhere, and Michael was inclined to agree. It’s where he would go, right under everyone’s noses.

While it wasn’t exactly a national security matter, the surrounding towns had agreed to close their exit gates temporarily to assist in capturing Free, as an act of alliance to Bard – the town that housed the family Free had murdered. It was pitiful, but it was something, because it cut off the shortest routes to any neighbouring towns that Free might try and go to, where he could fit in unrecognised.

This meant that those inclined to do so were searching for Free in Bard and the area surrounding it, barely giving a thought to the plains or the other towns nearby. Michael agreed on the notion of dismissing the three remaining towns, because unless Free ran the whole way, he wouldn’t be able to get there in time, not to mention the watchtowers would be keeping an eye out.

Apart from that, Michael knew they’d open them up soon, probably before the family raised the bounty up another fifty thousand, because the plains were a place hikers loved to travel, campers loved to go for the weekend and families loved to spend on a day out.

So they couldn’t keep them shut forever. It was a matter of each town waiting for the neighbouring towns to open up first, so they didn’t seem uncaring in comparison.

‘Fucking power games,’ Michael muttered. He’d never been one for politics or appearances, always being one to tell it how it is. Still, he understood the need for peace in the towns, part of why he became a bounty hunter in the first place.

His mind mulled this over as he travelled, stopping and pulling out a small map he’d thrown together for himself on occasion, making sure he was travelling straight and adjusting his course when he wasn’t.

He nearly always was, though; he had an excellent sense of direction – something he prided himself on. But he knew it was imperative to check, so check he did, because it was a good practice to have even if he thought it was a waste of time whenever he made sure and found out he was correct.

By the time the sun was completely set and the moon was rising high in the sky he figured himself over halfway there, nearing on three quarters. Though he was content with how far he’d come and the distance that he’d travelled, he didn’t allow himself to slow.

He could sleep when it hit dawn, despite that that was the perfect time to walk. He knew he'd have to do it eventually, but not now, because it would take too long to get the fire going and would end up as a waste of time, not to mention he might freeze to death.

The seemingly relentless heat from earlier was faded, and the cold was setting in.

This meant if he wanted to not freeze to death, he’d have to keep moving. He had faith in his body to overcome the cold and be able to maintain a fast pace to get him to Tarn without dropping from exhaustion, and it was one of the few moments he mentally stopped to appreciate himself.

Without being overly prideful, he was content with his abilities. His body was strong, fast, and his reflexes were instant. He had a mind that, while not genius, was intelligent, and he didn’t find himself intellectually challenged by much. Not that there was really anything intellectually challenging in a lifestyle of hunting and survival, besides the ability to make rational decisions, but still.

He was happy with himself, and where he was at, and it was that happiness that helped fuel him forward, helped him ignore the biting cold for the most part, until it got painful. Giving in that his mood wouldn’t last, he sighed and slid his pack off one shoulder, opening it and pulling out the two shirts and one of the beanies.

He dragged both the shirts on top of his current one and slid his jacket back on top of that, then tugged the beanie down and over his ears. More content and slightly warmer, he slid the pack back over his shoulder, having not stopped walking for the ordeal.

Sighing, he realised he’d have to recheck his map again, because it was theoretically possible he’d somehow turned himself around while pulling the shirts on. Realistically, Michael knew that wasn’t the case, but he wasn’t stubborn enough, and certainly not stupid enough, to risk it.

It was during his pulling out of the map that he realised at some point, he’d lost the poster advertising the bounty hunt for Free. He cursed, assuming the slight quickening in his pulse was due to his disappointment in himself for losing it.

He didn’t question why he felt that tiny bit lost that night, and why he woke up with his hand grasping for something that wasn’t there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read & review, yo

Doing a three sixty degree turn, Michael admired the town around him. ‘It hasn’t been bad,' he admitted aloud, but if he was being honest with himself he was impressed the town, and more importantly, the women in it.

He gave a wave and a cocky grin to a woman who sauntered past him, obviously confident in herself enough to flaunt around wearing less than the average amount of clothes. Not that Michael minded, of course.

He’d heard Tarn was a town more modernised than most others, but he hadn’t realised the extent. The clothing, the stores, the roads – everything was more modern, more technological. He didn’t appreciate feeling like a redneck, especially since everything was still essentially the same, but he did take the time to appreciate the work that had gone into it.

Michael smiled. He had stayed here the full day, no problem. He could do it again. In fact, he could probably even come back here and live one day. Maybe with Lindsay, the Ardinsworth girl. She’d fit right in here, with these beautiful women.

Shaking himself of his thoughts, he took one last longing look around the town and hoisted his pack up again, a move so frequently used it was habit to him now, and wandered over to the watchtower.

He gave a wave to the man inside, and when he had his attention, he leaned forward to yell, but the man motioned for him to wait and headed on down.

‘You a hunter?’ he asked casually, eyeing up Michael, who refused to squirm under the scrutinous gaze.

‘Might be,' Michael offered, returning the searching gaze.

For a long moment, the two men squinted at each other.

'Could you open the gate?’ Michael finally asked. 'Like, today?' 

The man in front of him pulled an expression of consideration. 'Hmm,' he mused. 

Michael narrowed his eyes further. 'By all means, don't hurt yourself.' 

Surprisingly, he snorted. ‘You lookin’ for Free?’ he asked, his voice slightly gruff. Michael sighed.

‘That'd be it,' he replied, and wondered if he’d get through after all. As if to assuage his fears, a moment later the man leaned back and smiled, extending his hand.

‘I’m Chris. We haven’t spotted him yet, and I don’t think he’s in there, but I’m sure if he is, you’ll find him. I’m warning you though, they’re talking about opening up in a few days, and once we do, everyone will follow.' He didn’t sound cocky, simply sure of his words, and Michael took a liking to him.

‘Michael.’ He shook the man’s hand. ‘Thanks for the warning. I’m hoping to nab him by then,' he admitted, not wanting to come across as overly confident.

Chris laughed. ‘Well, I hope you do too. I’ll pop right on up back up there and open the gate for you... I’ll tell ya what, so you’re not out there forever if you don’t find him, if we open the gates I’ll blow the horn just once, okay? You keep your ears peeled, so you know what to expect.’

Michael was momentarily shocked by the gesture. ‘That’s… thanks, yeah. Right. Thank you,’ he said again, and stood by the gates for them to open. Jesus, if people around his hometown were this nice to bounty hunters maybe he’d _catch_ a few more people.

‘Good luck!’ he heard Chris shout, before the gate closed with a final sounding _bang_ behind him.

Pulling a surprised face, Michael swallowed down the paranoid flicker of suspicion he held and turned determinedly to the plains before him, to the forest tapering off to the side, to the small mountain that started where the plains finished just a several hour walk from where he stood now.

His instinct told him to plan before he moved, but he could feel Chris’s eyes on the back of his neck so he started striding forwards, adjusting so he’d end up at the start of the forest. It was by no means a small forest, but it was the most likely place for someone to hide, so Michael figured it was his best bet.

As he approached the forest, he started to devise a plan.

With what he had in his backpack, he could search for a day before he’d need to hunt. Hunting, animal or human, was no problem for him, and since he didn’t plan on becoming a cannibal anytime soon he figured he’d be fine hunting rabbits and squirrels, or whatever other small mammals were roaming the forest.

Until then, with the bottled water in his pack, he’d last a few days without needing to find the nearest water source. The water couldn’t be too sparse, considering Free was still alive and hadn’t died of dehydration or hunger since he’d been on the run, which Michael sincerely hoped wasn’t the case.

He’d come out here to drag the man back to the headquarters, and if Free had the goddamn audacity to die on him, it would have been a huge waste of time. 

Michael Jones would not be happy.

‘You better not be dead,' he muttered to no-one, habitually scanning his surroundings.

He glanced up – it was still bright and early, and he had a lot of ground to cover. With a sigh that expressed how totally disgruntled he was - he was getting too old for this shit - he checked the ground absentmindedly for track marks and was decidedly not surprised to see a lack of such. It was probably against the rule of the universe to let Michael Jones have something he wanted without working himself to the ground for it.

Sighing once more, he decided to avoid the walls of the towns, and instead find the nearest source of water. He could follow it until it ended.

 

\---

 

'I must have burned down like, five orphanages in my past life. And kicked some kittens. Scratch that, ten orphanages, and the kitties were all disabled. That would just about balance it out. Maybe.'

He talked to himself when he was alone. And bored. And tired and grumpy and utterly discontent because it had been five goddamn hours and there was  _no_ goddamn water source. 

‘This is fucking ridiculous. What kind of fucking place has no fucking _water?_ What are the animals meant to do, dehydrate to death? Just keel over when it gets hot? No, there’s fucking water around here somewhere, and sure as dicks I’m going to fucking find it. I _refuse_ to be outsmarted by an inanimate object.’ He cut off to glare at the tree root he nearly tripped over.

‘ _Don’t you dare,'_ he hissed, kicking it for good measure as he passed. He almost tripped anyway when his body froze automatically, and he found himself scanning the area for something before it clicked. ‘What the fucking fuck?’

He backtracked and observed the root he’d previously attacked. He desperately tried to realise what had struck him as strange, strange enough for him to stop, and he had to reimagine the previous scenario before he realised.

After admiring the slightly sunken indent in the ground, quite close to the root, he narrowed his eyes and quickly placed his foot under the tree root, leaning forward with one knee until it touched the ground. As he suspected, the idiot that had previously passed through here had tripped on the root and fallen face first, like Michael almost had. He prided himself on his ability to _not_ trip, and continued the way he was going, reassured by the fact that he was on someone's heels.

He muttered to himself as he followed the tiny signs indicating the clumsy traipsing of someone who didn’t know better, of someone who didn’t know quite how to hide their tracks.

‘You better be it, whoever you are.’ 

‘You better be my boy.’

 

 

 ---

Two hours and no degree of success later, Michael found himself stumbling onto a river.

To say he was relieved was an understatement, because never before had he been so painfully outsmarted by water before. He was incredibly lucky he had found it, and that he hadn’t been in dire need, because he knew if he’d needed it when he was searching he wouldn’t have found it in time.

Glancing around with a frown marring his face, he resisted the urge to bathe himself in the cool, inviting water. The urge was fighting against his instinct to protect himself and remain on guard, but eventually his survival instinct rightly won out and he sighed, settling with dipping his feet into the water for a little while and splashing his face and the back of his neck repeatedly.

After that, he was back to business, climbing up onto a tall rock to get a degree of elevation. He looked around, taking note of his surroundings, and decided that the small cave he could see up ahead was a good enough place to set up camp.

Clamouring over the unstable rocks to get to the cave was tiring, and it didn’t help his mood any to know he’d be sleeping cold tonight, unable to risk starting a fire in case he was close to the man he was after. 

The unhappiness settling over him was completely thrown off when, upon entering the tiny cave, he discovered the markings of someone previously inhabiting it.

It hadn’t been anytime recently, a few days at least, but the tracks were there. The remains of a fire and the rubbish tucked hastily into the corner, out of immediate sight to passer-bys but instantly noticeable to Michael, filled with him confidence and renewed vigour.

‘Fucking _sweet,_ ’ he celebrated quietly, setting his stuff carefully away from any of the evidence and heading over to examine it closely. None of it told him anything more than he already knew, that someone had been here and been here recently, but he was satisfied enough with his findings to feel pretty damn satisfied.

But in his mind, there was still that tiny spike of disappointment that lingered, because he was the kind of man that wouldn’t be completely content until the job was done. Shaking his curls out of his face, he rolled his eyes at his own dramatics and glanced out once more, peering through the darkness for one last routine check. Reassured, Michael quickly ducked out of sight and settled in the corner of the cave, placing a bundle of rocks in an unstable formation at the entrance of the cave to alert him to any intruders in the night.

It was a basic method, but it hadn’t failed him yet. He smiled. At this rate, he’d be home within the week.

\---

 

Michael awoke to sunlight streaming in and he instantly tensed, checking around him without moving too much to make sure that he was alone and everything was untouched. When he was satisfied he sat up, rummaging around in his pack for his breakfast with one hand and reaching for his sword with the other.

Drawing it close, he admired it, noting with dismay that he’d have to resharpen it when he got home, courtesy of the three dick-knob bandits who he’d blunted it on. With a shrug, he made sure there was nothing else wrong with it before setting it carefully down again, using both hands to attack his food.

He kept a watchful eye out as he ate, never letting his guard down. Even though finding the tracks was good news, it meant he was getting close, it also meant that he had to be on the lookout twenty-four seven. He couldn’t risk relaxing when he was on the tail of a multi-murderer.

Stuffing his spare clothes in his backpack, he eyed the clothes dirtied by the dust storm that he’d failed to get rid of. He mentally tossed over whether to throw them or not, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Wrinkling his nose, he pushed them down to the very bottom and stuffed the remaining items on top.

Before he left he grabbed the remnants of his breakfast, a lone and sad looking apple that seemed to reflect Michael's pitiful solitude on its shiny red surface, and started munching away as he hiked his pack over his shoulders and cleared away any remaining traces of him being there. After that, he walked forward for about five minutes before he stumbled over to a tree to relieve himself.

‘There _is_ a Lord,' he praised at the feeling, before he shook himself and zipped, mentally chastising himself as he made his way along the river bank. His choice of route was deliberate, out of sight from anyone along the shores but within sight and sound of it.

He’d been wandering for half an hour, beginning to consider that Free (totally assuming that it was his tracks he was following, Michael hoped like fuck it was - all logic dictated it) may have diverged from the river and further into the jungle to throw trackers off, but the fact was he didn’t seem like the kind of person to do that. So far, he’d demonstrated only minimal knowledge of how to avoid hunters, and the largest part of that had been the idea to get in the plains in the first place. Apart from that, and the intelligence of keeping himself alive and relatively out of sight, Free was hopeless.

The tracks he’d left previously were clumsy and obvious, and there had been at least two occasions that Michael had come across oddly shaped indentations in the ground, only to match them up to the shape of the man falling.

So it was safe to say the man had no idea how to cover his tracks, and it was a miracle he’d survived this long – it could literally only be attributed to the idea of hiding out here.

And since Michael was in, hot on his tracks and gaining ground, it was also safe to say he was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. He’d hunted much more intelligent killers for less. He glanced out at the river and decided to duck out to wash his face.

As something caught his eye, Michael stopped. Surprise tingled through his body and his whole face lit up at the sight of a _proper fucking footprint_ right there in front of him, imprinted with water and almost dried out on a rock. He hurried over, thanking his less than superior eyesight for spotting such an unlikely thing, and quickly matched up the size and shape of the footprint to that of an adult male, or, less likely but still possible, a teenager with huge feet.

Glancing around, he realised why it was just the singular one – the rest of the rocks were already submerged, or completely dry.

 _Hmm,_ Michael thought, _so maybe he has some intelligence after all, going through the water. You know, if he didn’t leave a gigantic fucking track._

Snorting quietly to himself at the idiocy, he stepped off the elevated rocks he’d so carefully chosen and brushed his auburn curls out of his face, pushing his glasses properly up his nose and treading daintily back onto dry land.

‘Half an hour,' he thought aloud, turning over the words in his mouth and considering the evidence behind them. ‘Fifty minutes. No, forty.’

With that he nodded to himself. ‘Forty minutes ahead of me, and still going.’

His body thrummed with apprehension as he hurried forward, eyes peeled and body at high alert as he re-entered the forest and began making his way onwards, enthusiastically noting the occasional tracks and marks left behind with glee.

 

‘You’re fucking mine, Free,' he whispered happily, and he continued onwards like that, gaining ground slowly but maintaining the utmost caution as he followed the waypoints that lit up for him like neon signs in Vegas.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit sorry if this is rushed, yeah.  
> I also updated and edited the last chapter, so I suggest you go back and reread it, because the end leads up to this.  
> Anyway, enjoy.  
> Read & review, yo

As night crept in, so did Michael, approaching the figure he could see making its way forward against the river.

Michael’s body was beginning to ache with the strain of remaining on edge, so he allowed himself to relax slightly, seeing as he had the man in his sights and it was only a matter of time until he stopped to rest.

He figured, if nothing drastic changed, that tonight would provide the ample opportunity to get hold of Free. Michael had the skills and the tools to keep him well restrained and quiet until they could head back in the morning.

By the looks of him, Free didn't seem too much of a threat, but Michael knew that you should never work off first appearances alone. He trusted his instinct, which told him to keep an eye on the man, but for some reason he didn't feel as... cautious, as he usually did when approaching the person with the bounty on their head.

He knew he should stay out of sight, of course, and take precautions not to be seen, but his body didn't seem to deem the man as dangerous, which was fucking ridiculous, because he'd killed three kids just over a week ago.

The idea that Michael was seeing him as something with the danger level akin to a unassuming animal was insane.

As he thought, he kept his eyes trained on the other man, and he hissed a silent ‘Yes!’ when the man flopped down against the riverbank and began to drink. Ignoring the small, unprofessional part of him that wanted to laugh at the other man’s starfish position, Michael glanced around for positions of advance and attack.

After a moment’s consideration, though, he was still too far back to attempt rushing him, regardless of the optimal position Free was in to do so, so he simply took the opportunity to close the distance between the two, positioning himself behind a tree with thick vines at the edge of the forest that would allow him perfect cover to observe him until the time was right.

Watching him, the man didn’t appear to be armed, which confused Michael. Wouldn’t a multi-murderer with a bounty on his head keep at least one weapon on him at all times? But from Michael’s vantage point, all aspects of the man’s body were obvious to him, and he really _didn’t_ have any weapons.

Unless he kept a gun incredibly well concealed under his shirt, which was possible but incredibly unlikely. The shirt was tightfitting, and it hugged well to his form. He didn’t even have a jacket to speak of.

How the hell hadn't he frozen to death?

Michael ran a hand through his hair, still watching the man. He knew he’d be setting up camp soon, so he was prepared to wait until the man was asleep before going in for the capture, but the man was _still_ at the fucking riverside, ankle deep and looking content to just sit there.

The truth in Michael’s theory of him not having a weapon became incredibly clear when the man tugged his shirt off, revealing tanned skin over smooth muscles, taught and just this side of skinny. After stretching for a moment he slipped his pants off – _skinny jeans, seriously?–_ followed instantly by his boxers.

Michael stood for a moment, stunned. His first instinct was to look away, to give the man some privacy, but he quickly realised he couldn’t do that. He had to keep his eyes on him, no matter what. He shifted uncomfortably.

_If he’d just get in the water already this would be a lot easier._

Truly, the man was still standing there, stretching lazily like a Cheshire cat, one arm above his head and the other gripping his elbow, pulling his arm and stretching out his ribs on one side before he did it to the other. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, inwardly groaning at the scenario.

When he opened them again, he froze, stunned by the surreal quality of the scene before him. The sun, sinking slowly behind the trees, was casting its final dying rays out onto the riverbank. Free was standing, head to the sky and arms now down by his sides, basking in the golden light illuminating his naked form, and he began to sing.

The fading light danced over his face and chest as he closed his eyes and raised his voice slightly, the eerie melody gently reaching Michael's ears. It only served to make the scene even more unrealistic, until he realised with a sharp intake of breath that he recognised the song.

The moment was lost when Michael came to his senses, realising he was staring at a man who had no idea he was there, surreal golden sun scene aside. He looked pointedly away, training his gaze just to the side of him, so he could note any movements that could lead to a potential escape but he wasn’t blatantly _perving._

This was bloody ridiculous. He’d never been in this position before, and he sure as hell wasn’t appreciating it now.

He noted with relief that the other man was finally getting in the fucking water, and he felt less uncomfortable now that he could watch him, watch this man who seemed so at home in his element that was so very far from civilisation.

The moon was slowly but surely rising, the sun finally having disappeared completely behind the cover of the trees, and Free was completely submerged in the water, but whenever he emerged he'd pick up the song where he'd left off.

'The minor fall, the major lift,'

A lot more content with the scenario at hand, Michael relaxed, shaking out the tension in his body with an unhappy frown. 

Shaking his head at the still singing man, Michael stayed in his perch, watching as below him, Free swam about. Every so often, he would look towards the shore uncertainly, and glance around as if he knew he should be moving but couldn’t bring himself to leave.

‘Too late, Free,’ Michael murmured, and it was as he said that that the man resurfaced, shook his head and started getting out of the water. Michael blinked, caught again in surprise, and tore his gaze away before he could fully emerge. Almost without his permission, his eyes drifted back, settling finally on Free's form as he fully emerged, the soft pits and pats of water hitting the sand somehow audible over his softly sung words.

'The baffled King composing Hallelujah,' 

Swallowing hard, Michael looked everywhere but at the man, focusing just off to the side once more as Free approached and leant down to grab his clothes. He sung as he dressed, his voice matching perfectly to the natural rise and fall of the words, and Michael had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that the man was a halfway decent singer.

'Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof.'

'Jesus Christ,' Michael muttered. It's _just a song. Anyway, it's about women,_ he told himself. Very determinedly, he ignored the light tingling up and down his spine at the painfully surreal scenario. 

Free did yet another Cheshire stretch, his form on display for the world around him. Michael felt dirtier the long he stayed. He signed up for kidnapping and possibly murder, not goddamn spying.

'Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you...'

'For the sake of all that is holy, sing something else,' Michael pleaded, even though he knew he couldn't hear. He was sufficiently put on edge again when Free cocked his head in consideration, stopped singing, and picked up another tune.

Michael froze, eyes widening as he stared at Free, but the man seemed oblivious to his presence, seemingly having changed the song at random.

After a moment though, Michael again grew discontent with the new song being sung.

‘Safety dance?’ he repeated dubiously. 

_Seriously?_

The jaunty tune rung out as Gavin gathered his few items, looking around for a place to walk. Apparently having decided on his route, he took one last look around before he began walking once more. As he moved, he swapped the tune again, and Michael felt an irrational stab of anger that the man couldn't stick to one fucking song.

However, when the yet again familiar tune of 'Eye of the Tiger' hit his ears, he considered for a moment, as if he was a judge at a talent contest, before nodding his approval. He was somewhat placated, content with how decidedly ironic it was.

‘And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he’s watching us all with the eye...’ he trailed off, tapping the tune on his leg absentmindedly as he peered half-heartedly into the forestry surrounding him.

‘Of the tiiiiger.' He picked up banging his head slightly to match the tune. ‘Dun, dun dun dun, dun dun dun, dun dun duuuunnn,' he continued, flicking his hair out of his face.

Michael cursed in his head as he quickly abandoned his optimum cover spot, sad that he couldn't have stayed there until Free was asleep because really, it was a fantastic spot. Moving on, Michael silently trailed him, thanking Geoff and the gods or whoever was out there listening for his ability and training to be stealthy _and_ agile.

Despite the slight head start, Michael kept a perfect, twenty metre distance from the man, adjusting and correcting his course as he went from cover to cover, feeling a bit ridiculous (because this _wasn't_ a spy movie) and tailing the man as he made his way down the side, still singing.

 _Singing,_ Michael thought yet again. He still couldn't get over that. At least Free had the intelligence to keep mostly quiet, even if he wasn't exactly a bad singer. Not that it wasn't far too late for him to escape unnoticed, but at least he was trying.

Fucking idiot.

The man made it maybe another two hundred metres before nodding to himself and edging off into the forest. Nervously, Michael wondered if he’d somehow made his presence known, but when Free stopped in front of a tree with a small area in front of it, but was slightly off the bank of the river and out of sight, he relaxed.

 _How fucking lucky._ He thought to himself. It really was an opportune hiding place, and he’d have been quite happy to find it himself. As it was, Free looked quite content, settling down against the tree and pulled his shirt on.

_Finally. Fucking idiot would have frozen to death._

He then bustled about making a fire, and it took him a painfully long time to get going. He had very little idea how to do it, and honestly, Michael would have dubbed it a fucking _miracle_ he’d ever managed before. Eventually though, with persistence and no small amount of luck, he hit it at the right angle and a small flame licked up.

‘Yes!’ he hissed in victory, a smirk crossing his face, as he poked, prodded and gently blew the small flame until it grew, strengthening and starting to burn the small sticks he’d placed delicately on top of it.

After that, he stretched out again, leaning against the tree and watching protectively as the fire grew. He munched on some food he had as he did so, and Michael could see the way his eyes began to droop and he relaxed more into the tree. He began to doze off when he started shivering, and he huddled closer to the fire to ward off the cold.

It seemed to work, and he quickly slid off into sleep, the lines in his face smoothing out and making him look even younger (which was impressive, he already looked young) as the flames danced across his features.

Without any further time wasting, Michael stepped forward, drawing his sword and silently approaching until he was right behind him, body on high alert again as he skilfully avoided anything that would alert the sleeping man to his presence.

When he was in a perfect position, Michael stopped, observing the innocence and obliviousness of the man, before he took the final step towards him and let the sword press gently against Free’s throat.

The man instantly stiffened, his body recognising the threat, and he began to awaken.

‘Move and I’ll slit your throat and leave you to bleed,’ Michael whispered quietly, and the man fully opened his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER SEVEN YEYEYEYE  
> ENJOY THE GAVINY GOODNESS  
> Read & review, yo

They stayed like that a moment, frozen, but then Michael’s instincts took over and he grabbed the length of rope tied loosely to his belt. ‘Stay still. I _will_ kill you,' he whispered, unravelling the cord with one hand as he pressed the sword harder with the other.

‘Do I _look_ like I’m moving?’ the man asked, and he seemed almost… exasperated.

Michael didn’t deign to reply to that, instead pressing the tip of the sword hard enough to draw blood, and gestured for Free to hold his hands out. He did so with a sigh, and Michael quickly tied them, tugging harshly to make sure it was secure before he put his foot on Free’s throat and leaned some of his weight on it, trapping his sword between his arm and his body while he used both hands to deftly tie another knot around Free’s wrists and tie it securely to the tree.

‘There,' he said, satisfied, and leaned up off the man.

‘You know, if you’re gunna mug me, you coulda done it by now already. You don’t have to bloody tie me up,’ Free grumbled, shaking his restrained wrists for emphasis.

Michael just raised an eyebrow at him. The man looked at him for a moment, confused, before he seemed to come to some sort of a conclusion. Michael could practically see the clogs in his head turning with the effort.

‘Oh! How bloody rude of me. I’m Gavin,’ he said cheerily. ‘I’d shake your hand, but, well…’ He looked at his tied wrists with a disdainful expression.

‘I know who you are, Free,’ Michael replied quietly, and the man slumped.

‘Ah,’

‘Bounty hunter,' was all Michael said, busying himself feeding the fire.

‘Come to kill me, then?’ 

‘Not quite. Take you back to camp and then they’ll kill you,’ Michael replied honestly. No use in prolonging the inevitable.

‘Ah. Yeah. Well, I lasted this long,’ Free said, looking almost impressed at the thought.

‘A week? Free,-’

‘Gavin, please,’ the man – Gavin, said. ‘Though I haven’t caught your name?’

His tone was hopeful. Michael snorted, but gave him his name anyway.

‘Michael. Nice name, that. Strong. Suits you,’ Gavin appraised.

Michael’s eyes narrowed at the accent that lilted his name. ‘Foreigner. What nationality?’

Gavin laughed. ‘Not one to beat around the bush, are you? I like that. I’ll just say not from here. Not that that’s very helpful, because you already knew that, but that was kind of the point.’ he rambled, tugging at his restraints.

Michael was on his feet in an instant. ‘Don’t try and escape or I’ll cut you open,’ he hissed, the spike of annoyance almost immediately fading into the background.

Gavin looked vaguely impressed. ‘You have a lot of different threats. Slit me open, cut me open, leave me to bleed, and just simple kill me. I think I like that one the most. Sometimes the simplest things in life are best,’ he nodded.

Michael looked at him. ‘What the flying fuck are you on about?’ he asked, and Gavin looked delighted.

‘Oh, at least you won’t be boring. If I’m gunna die, I want to die with someone interesting,' he admitted, looking thoughtfully into the distance.

‘…Interesting?’ Michael repeated doubtfully.

‘Yeah, interesting! Like, you’re sort of not professional, kind of, which is cool. Maybe you won’t be all do _this_ and you’re dead, do _that_ and you’re dead. Maybe you’ll be a bit of fun.’ Gavin said, leaning back against the tree he was tied too.

Michael was vaguely speechless for a moment. ‘Your biggest concern is that I’m _interesting?_ You’re going to die in a few days, and your biggest concern is that I’m _interesting?_ ’

‘Well, it was only inevitable, right?’ Gavin chuckled.

‘You kill people, you pay the price,’ Michael said, watching for his reaction. He got one, but not what he’d expect. Gavin’s eyes flicked to him, and he looked almost pained. Michael half expected him to start arguing, or defending his innocence, as so many others had before, but instead he looked down at the ground for a few moments before looking back up, meeting Michael's gaze.

‘I don’t regret it,' he whispered, offering a one armed shrug.

Michael narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m sure the people ready to torture you back at headquarters will love to hear that,' he said, voice dangerously low.

Gavin shook his head. ‘I’d try to explain, but I’m sure you wouldn’t listen. Normally that wouldn’t stop me, but, well… Y’know. I’m not really up for talking about it.’

Michael stood, jaw clenched. ‘You’re not up for talking about it? I’m sure the two little girls you killed wouldn’t have been up for talking about it either!’ he shot back, voice raised, leaning close to the man. ‘Or their older brother, who probably died trying to protect them.’

Gavin flinched at that, and the look he gave Michael would forever be burned into his eyes. There was anger, _hurt?,_ pain, but most of all sadness. ‘You wouldn’t understand,' he whispered again, and shook his head as if to clear it.

After a moment he looked back up at Michael, all cheeky smiles and flushed cheeks again. ‘Y’know, I was right,' he said, nodding to himself, looking for all the world as if Michael still wasn’t hovering above him, hands itching to grab the sword and drag it across the man’s throat. 'You _are_ interesting.’ He chuckled. ‘I thought bounty hunters were meant to avoid getting attached,' he said, but he didn’t seem to be trying to offend him. He simply looked curious.

‘I’ll give you interesting in a minute,’ Michael muttered, calming down. He backed off and unclenched his fists, breathing heavily to try and expel the irrational anger. ‘And I’m not attached. I just find it a bit hard to stand idly by as you talk about the murder of three innocent kids like it was nothing.’

He ignored the way Gavin’s mouth twisted temporarily. ‘Well, fair enough,' he replied lightly. ‘Can’t blame you for that,' he finally conceded with a nod.

Michael just looked at him.  This was getting stranger by the minute. He didn’t seem  _upset_ that Michael had captured him, and that he was going to be led to his torture and death within a few days. He had admitted that he’d expected it, so it wasn’t a huge surprise, but still. He didn’t look concerned.

Shaking his head, Michael looked back up at Gavin, who was watching him intently. ‘Already having an effect on you?’ he winked, and Michael wondered for a moment how the hell this was his life. A bounty hunter in the middle of nowhere with a decidedly attractive multi-murderer, who he’d seen naked as the day he was born, and on top of that who seemed uncaring about the death sentence hanging over his head and more interested in garnering a reaction from the hunter.

‘I don’t…’ Michael gave up. ‘Shut up.'

Gavin smothered a laugh. 'You know, and I don't mean this offensively, but you don't look like a bounty hunter. Well actually, you kind of do, like you have that facey.. face look, where you're all tough, but then you also look... smooth?' He tilted the last word into a question, chewing on his lip thoughtfully as he considered his words.

'Smooth,' Michael repeated. Jesus, who gave this guy a mouth?

Gavin gave up on finding a better adjective, instead nodding. 'Yeah. Like, part of you looks like you could be a bartender or something. Not a killer, you know?'

'Right. Whatever. Look, it's getting la-'

'How did you end up a bounty hunter?' Gavin asked, eyes alight with curiosity. 'I really want to know! I want to know how anybody ends up as one, actually, but since you're the only one here you'll have to do.'

Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming in. 'Like I'm fucking telling you. Go to-'

'And you don't act all grumpy and death threaty! Wait, I take that back, you do. But it's not... professional! Not saying you’re not professional, but the way you speak and act kind of… isn’t.'

'I've been here not even an hour. What the _fuck._ '

Gavin shrugged. 'I can tell these things. So now I'm curious, don't get me wrong I'm not complaining, I love that you're not all ready to kill me-'

'-I had my sword at your throat two seconds ago-'

'- and you actually have a sense of humour! I just want to know. How'd you end up a bounty hunter?'

'I'm not answering that. Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.'

'Aren't you curious how I got to be where I am?' Gavin asked, and he turned to look Michael full on, expecting an answer to his honest question.

Michael sighed. 'If I answer, will you shut _up_ and go to sleep?'

Gavin pursed his lips thoughtfully, but at Michael's growing anger he held his hands up as well as he could in surrender. 'Yes, okay.'

'Yeah, I do,' Michael said curtly, but Gavin looked as if he was waiting for more, so Michael conceded with a sigh. 'Because you're the most annoying, stupid piece of shit I've ever encountered, and how you survived this long honestly blows my mind. You're an idiot, and I'm in no way surprised that you got caught killing three kids,' he said, blowing a breath out the side of his mouth.

Gavin paused for a moment, hesitating. 'Do I look... Are you surprised I... are you.. I killed three... three kids?' he asked, mouth twisting as he said it.

Michael narrowed his eyes. 'Not at all, you piece of shit,' he spat. Was this meant to make him doubt that Gavin wasn't innocent? 'Go to sleep,' he said. ‘I’ll be watching you.’ 

Gavin smothered a laugh. ‘Sorry!’ he giggled when Michael glared at him. ‘It’s just, you sounded so _creepy,'_ he giggled again. ‘ _I’ll be watching you,'_ he mimicked, lowering his voice in a poor impersonation of Michael.

‘You’re insane,’ Michael blinked at him, shaking his head. When Gavin only laughed harder he fought his own urge to join in and shook his head again. ‘Mentally deranged. Possibly retarded. Off your nut. Crazy.’ He started listing all the adjectives he could think of.

‘Bonkers?’ Gavin interjected with a giggle. Michael just sighed, exasperated.

‘Fuck me. Shut the fuck up and go to sleep. And I’m serious, don’t fucking move an inch,' he threatened. Gavin seemed content to comply with the order, whispering a mocking ‘Yes ma’am!’ before settling in as comfortably as he could get.

‘Wait,’ he whispered, and Michael barely restrained the urge to hit him. ‘Can I get closer to the fire? It’s cold.’ 

‘No. Fucking freeze, asshole,’ Michael said, and when Gavin went to move he held his sword in front of him aggressively. ‘Not an inch,’ he ground out, and Gavin just looked at him a moment before shrugging and settling back down where he was before.

‘Goodnight,’ Gavin said, peeking an eye open as he did so before he shut them again, and looked as if he was asleep within moments. Michael stayed still for a moment, observing him.

This was the weirdest fucking bounty hunt he'd ever been on. The man wasn't angry, he wasn't scared, he wasn't insane (well, that was questionable). He was just stupid, had a terrible sense of humour and didn't know when to shut up.

Michael shook his head, wary and unsure. He didn't know how to handle this... how to handle Gavin. He decided he’d stay up tonight and keep an eye on him. He’d survive without the rest.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw; homophobic slurs

Michael was awoken to an insistent tugging on his ear, and he sat up groggily. He opened his eyes and as soon as he realised it was Free touching him, his sword was in his hands and he was on his feet in an instant, out of reach and prepared to attack.

Gavin just laughed and held up his hands. ‘Still bound, remember? I just really need to use the bathroom.’

Michael paused for a moment, wondering why his body hadn’t registered the threat when it was close enough to touch him. He also wondered why Gavin hadn’t taken his sword, or tried to attack him, or gone about trying to free himself. Maybe he was smarter than Michael gave him credit for.

‘Fucking- what? Just go right there,' he said, rubbing at his face. Gavin looked down, going red, and mumbled something. ‘What was that?’ Michael asked, because he was an asshole and the man deserved it.

‘I said I can’t go in front of other people.’

Michael stared at him for a moment. 'I was  _just_ asleep. Perfect opportunity. Are you mentally-'

'I didn't want to wake you up and make you go all assassin on me, or something,' Gavin said, 'but now you're awake, so problem solved. Can you turn around?'

‘You’re serious. Wow. Well I got news for you, princess. Two words. Man. Up. You’re going to have to get used to it, because we got a several day walk. You just need to piss?’ Gavin nodded.

‘I’m not turning my back, you can turn yours, but you stay well over there. Jesus Christ, what are you, fucking two? Fuck _me,’_ he swore, running his hands through his hair.

Gavin turned meekly away, glancing back over his shoulder to see if Michael had changed his mind or looked away. When he hadn’t, he spun back around.

‘Cover your ears,’ he demanded, and Michael couldn't even say he was surprised. He'd been talking to the man for not even a minute and he already wanted to kill him again. Was he always like this?

Probably.

‘No,’ Michael said simply.

‘Yes!’ Gavin cried. ‘You can still see me in plain sight, and I won’t move an inch, I swear. Just cover your ears.’

‘Fucking _fine,’_ Michael did so, as if it pained him more than anything in the world.

‘You can still hear me,’ Gavin said, and he had a point. Just covering them did nothing to block sounds out. ‘You have to hum really loudly.’

‘You’re _just pissing!’_ Michael cried. ‘Maybe I’d understand if you needed to shi-’

‘Michael!’ Gavin squealed, looking almost embarrassed. Michael groaned loudly.

‘Fucking _FUCK._ My ears are covered and I’m humming loudly, now fucking go!’ Michael yelled, and did as he said. He picked a random tune, eyes trained on Gavin’s back, and when the man zipped up and turned around he had a look on his face Michael immediately deemed a threat.

‘What?’ Michael demanded, sword at the ready and body tensed immediately. He searched for any surrounding danger, but came up with none. It didn’t explain the suspicious look on Gavin’s face. ‘What’d you do?’ he demanded, up in Gavin’s face in an instant, hand wrapped tightly in his hair and sword pressed against his throat.

‘Nothing!’ Gavin squeaked, but Michael didn’t believe him.

‘Try again,’ he whispered, pressing the sword down harder.

‘No, it’s just – the tune you were humming.’ He met Michael’s eye, a cheeky glint reflecting back at him. ‘Eye of the Tiger,' he explained, and it took Michael a moment before he groaned and let go of him harshly, pushing him back a step and sending him tumbling to the ground.

‘Fucking – seriously?’ Michael asked.

‘You’ve been watching me,’ Gavin teased, winking at him. When he received no response except a glare he just grinned harder. ‘Michael,’ he whispered conspiratorially. ‘Michael,’ he insisted when he received no answer. ‘Michael, you saw me naked.’ He giggled, and Michael seriously considered whether bringing him back alive was worth it or not. ‘You saw my butt.’ Gavin continued to laugh, purposefully being as immature as possible, noting how annoyed Michael was getting. ‘Did you like what you saw?’

'Yeah, and I'm going to take advantage of you right here right now. Bend over,' Michael said sarcastically, but he caught the look of surprise on Gavin's face. He hadn't expected him to joke back, and it was totally thrown in his face.

Michael burst out laughing.

He took a moment to compose himself, and when he looked at Gavin again he was back to normal. ‘Nah, I’m not a faggot,' he said, turning, oblivious to the small flinch Gavin gave. ‘Dude, your face though. Oh. Priceless.’

'You don't look like that kinda guy,' Gavin decided, supplementing his wisdom with a shrug.

Michael looked at him out of the corner of his eye. 'Appearances can be deceiving,' he stated.

He started gathering their things, rifling through Gavin’s backpack and digging out what he deemed important. A small amount of food and one change of clothes was all that ended up being transferred to Michael’s backpack.

‘Maggot moon? What the fuck kind of book is that?’ Michael demanded, holding said book out in front of him with a disgusted expression.

Gavin perked up. ‘Oh! It’s a really good book, but it’s so sad at the end. Poor Hector. Poor Standish,’ he mused sadly, before making grabby hands at the book. ‘Gimme.’ 

Michael held the book out of reach. ‘No way. It’s just weighing us down. It’s going.’

Gavin looked shocked. ‘What? No! I’ll carry it! Don’t leave it behind!’

‘Yeah, and use it on me as a weapon when I’m not looking? No thanks,’ Michael said doubtfully, and turned to the fire.

‘What are- No, no Michael, don’t!’ Gavin yelled, legitimately distressed, and Michael looked at him for a moment.

'It's just a fucking book,' he said, and dropped it into the fire, not looking away from Gavin. Gavin, in turn, didn't look away from the book, and they stayed like that until the last flakes of ash disappeared completely.

He turned to Michael. ‘Why?’ he asked, and he looked legitimately _disappointed,_ as if he hadn’t believed Michael could be so cruel.

Michael ignored the uneasiness that rose in his stomach. _That was a pretty dick move._

‘Because you fucking deserve it. Now hurry up, we’re going,’ he said, seemingly uncaring, and Gavin complied silently. Michael wasn't sure why he seemed so upset over the burning of a stupid book, but that didn't change the fact that he was.

He didn't talk for the rest of the day, ignoring Michael when he got frustrated with the guilt that swelled in his stomach every now and then and started to try conversation. It only took two tries and he gave up, telling himself he really didn't give  two fucks that he'd managed to hurt Gavin's feelings.

No, scratch that, he didn't even give one.

So he certainly didn’t regret the silence that plagued them throughout the day, and he was definitely upset when night time came around and they set up camp in the edge of the forest, and Gavin spoke his first words since the book burning.

‘You know, you didn’t have to do it,’ he said quietly, and Michael pretended not to know what he was talking about.

‘Do what?’ 

‘The book,’ Gavin replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

‘What, burning it? It’s fine, you’ll live.’

_No he won’t._

‘It's just a book. You look like I fucking kicked your dog,' Michael muttered, 'Christ.'

Gavin shrugged. 'It was an important book to me.' 

'Do I look like I care? Get over it, it's a damn book. You don't have to sook all fucking day,' Michael dismissed. Honestly, the man could get over his damn book. He'd managed to make Michael feel a tiny bit guilty, and that had never been achieved before by someone in his position.

Michael quickly changed the subject.

'Anyway, what do you feel like for dinner tonight?’ he asked. ‘We have dried rabbit, dried rabbit and… um, dried rabbit. Hmm. Such variety. Such wonder,' he said in a breathy voice, dragging his hands through the air dramatically.

He tried to pretend he didn't feel a little better when Gavin gave a small chuckle.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,' he said, and handed the portion to Gavin. ‘Don’t eat it all at once,’ he joked weakly, because really, it was pitiful.

He’d found Free a lot faster than he’d planned (not that that was a bad thing, but still) so it threw a wrench in his plans, and he had to try and decide his next course of action. He chewed as he thought, eyes constantly on the other man.

He could pick up supplies in Tarn, but he didn’t want to make a beeline through the towns, because it wouldn’t be the first time someone attacked him for the bounty on the head of the restrained captor he was carrying back home.

Sometimes getting the bounty back alive was harder than capturing them in the first place.

‘Hmm. Where do you think we should go next?’ he asked Gavin, as if it was a road trip and they were just planning their next destination. He sat upright. ‘Actually, speaking of which, how the hell did you get in here?’

Gavin shrugged one shoulder. ‘There’s a hole in one of the walls. Nothing special. Just kept circling the area till I found it.’

Michael frowned. ‘How’d you know it was there?’

‘My friend, D- Uh, my friend. He showed me once, when we were on holiday here.’

‘What like, friend as in serial killer buddy? And holiday like a few days out of the year when you go on a killing spree?’ Michael said, face twisting in distaste.

‘No. My friend. I do have those, you know.’

Michael noticed the slight hurt in the man’s voice, and didn’t know what to think. He flashed back to the look Gavin had given him when he'd burned the book– it was the same hurt. How did Michael honestly hurt his feelings?

Like what the fuck? The man knew next to nothing about Michael, yet he’d already been personally upset, more than once. Like they were friends, and he was upset Michael would purposely do something that could hurt him.

It was fucking weird, that’s what it was. Michael had always been one to offend a _lot_ of people, but never personally hurt someone he'd met less than a day ago. And considering the fact that they both knew exactly where and why Michael was taking Gavin, it just made the situation weirder.

The man was a multi-murderer. He shouldn't _get_ to have hurt feelings.

Michael sighed and decided to drop it. This was fucking confusing.

‘Well, bedtime, don’t you reckon? I’ll try and not fall asleep again.’ Michael forced a laugh. He didn’t know why he was going to so much trouble to try and avoid upsetting the other man, but he refused to delve too deep into it.

‘You can trust me, Michael,’ Gavin said, just as quietly as he had been all day.

Michael laughed loudly. ‘Why would I do that?’

Gavin didn’t even bother replying, simply rolling over as far as he could while being tethered to another tree, and lay there.

 

\----

Michael, true to his word, didn’t sleep, though not for his body’s lack of trying. He became increasingly more and more annoyed at the lack of self-preservation he was showing.

Never before had his body failed to recognise a threat, a skill that had come in _incredibly_ helpful throughout his career as a hunter. It had saved his life more times than he could count, and he honestly couldn’t figure out why it was failing him now.

He was all alone in the middle of nowhere, with only a multi-murdering _child killer_ for company. It was ridiculous, verging on unbelievable that his body refused to pick up the threat, and it left him incredibly unnerved.

He’d been mulling over this for the entire night, and was still pondering it in the morning when Gavin yawned himself awake and tried to roll over, yanking his arm uncomfortably and sitting up with a groan.

‘Would it kill you to loosen them?’ he grumbled, trying to rub his sore wrist and failing dismally.

‘It could.’ Michael shrugged, and when Gavin stifled a laugh he turned to him questioningly.

‘It’s just-’ he started, but then his face fell, and he cut himself off. ‘Never mind. I have to pee, do your thing.’

Michael obliged, not bothering to argue with him at this point.

When he finished he turned back and started to stretch. ‘So how far is it?’ he asked, doing the same stretch he’d done at the river. He looked the same, too, if not a bit more worse for wear- the same Cheshire cat look, and his shirt rode up to reveal a surprisingly hairy stomach.

Michael hadn’t been able to see (not that he was looking, fuck you) Gavin in much detail back at the river, and he was hesitant to admit the man only looked more attractive up close.

At least he didn't have that surreal, glowing, out of this world look now that the sun wasn't illuminating him. Honestly, Michael probably only thought he was attractive because of that moment.

Gavin totally wasn't decent looking, and Michael totally hadn't been staring at him for a few minutes now. He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a small cough, and he jumped.

‘What? Um, right. Uh, shit, I haven’t decided the course yet… I’m not sure if it’s worth going through the towns, but we need to pick up supplies…’ He wondered aloud, pulling a face. ‘Fuuuck. You had to hide out right in the middle of the few towns that know about you,’ he complained, and he was surprised to hear Gavin laugh.

‘Sorry if my existence is troubling to you,’ he said insincerely, and Michael laughed too. He’d turned away to begin to pack again, still smiling, and when he turned back Gavin was looking at him in wonder.

‘What?’ he demanded, eyes narrowing. Gavin looked decidedly content. ‘What?’ he demanded again, checking around him for a threat, even though he knew it was ridiculous. ‘Fucking tell me!’

‘You’re like a li’l baby,’ Gavin cooed, laughing. ‘Don’t give you what you want instantly and you get all grabby and demanding. It’s so cute,’ he crooned, still laughing.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Michael questioned, but resisted his own urge to laugh. ‘You're a grown ass fucking man,’ he shook his head, giving up. 'Whatever. Shut the fuck up, I'm packing,' he said, even though he was almost already done.

‘But don’t you want to know what I was laughing at?’ Gavin teased, and Michael turned back to him, hands on his hips.

‘No, I don’t.’ 

‘You have a dimple!’ Gavin exclaimed, ignoring him completely. ‘On one side of your little cheek.’

There was a beat of  silence where Michael just stared at him. ‘Dude, you’re fawning over me. Stop.' He shook his head. 'Way to make me feel really gay.,' he sighed, and he caught Gavin’s raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye. ‘What?’

Gavin instantly schooled his features. ‘What? Nothing.’ 

Michael narrowed his eyes. ‘Hm,’ he said suspiciously. ‘Whatever. Let’s go.’

‘You might want to untie me first,’ Gavin said, shaking his ropes.

‘Nah, why would I wanna do that?’ Michael teased, grabbing the untied coil of rope and pulling it along.

‘This is undignified,’ Gavin complained, grumbling as he was pulled along.

‘You care about dignity?’ Michael cried, feigning shock. ‘You’re gunna be dead in a few days, I doubt you care,’ he laughed, and tugged harshly on the ropes. He heard Gavin draw in a quick breath and stumble as he was yanked painfully forward, but Michael felt no guilt.

He knew that the laughter shared between them could prove troublesome later, so it was with that he promised himself he’d detach what little emotional connection he’d had to the other man.

It was for the best.

He was a murderer, after all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have any notes for this
> 
> but read & review, yo

‘Seriously, if you’re just fucking with me I swear to God I _will-‘_

‘There!’ the man being threatened interrupted him with a squeak, pointing a hole just above the ground that looked barely big enough for a ten year old to fit through.

Michael turned to him. ‘You’re kidding me, right. How the hell are either of us meant to fit through that?’

‘If you’d let me go, I’d show you,’ Gavin said, tugging at the ropes. He really hated them, hated the way they took away his freedom, and they were only really bearable with Michael on the other end of the line.

‘Yeah, right. I’m not a fucking idiot, Free,’ Michael said, looking annoyed.

‘Michael, I’m not going to try and get away.’ Gavin sighed exasperatedly.

Michael threw his hands up, still holding onto the rope. ‘Well you fucking should! What’s wrong with you? You haven’t tried _once_ that I’ve seen to try and get away. You know I'm leading you to your death, right?' he demanded, eyes squinted in a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

'You are?' Gavin cried, feigning surprise. It didn't serve to take Michael off track and back into light banter like he'd hoped, instead leading the other man to literally hit the tree next to them in frustration.

Gavin was just glad it wasn't his face. Michael looked like he could pack a mean punch.

'And that's another thing! You won't shut up no matter how much I threaten you, and you never take my insults seriously.' Michael ranted, sick and fed up with being confused over it all.

Gavin shrugged carelessly. 'Yep,' he said, drawing the P sound into an obnoxious pop.

'What the fuck, dude?' Michael muttered, out of things to say.

Trying to muffle his giggle, Gavin avoided Michael's curious look until he glared at him in wordless demanding for him to tell. 'It's just, you're practically encouraging me to try and get away,' he admitted.

'No, I'm not. You try it and I will happily beat your ass into next century. You're just fucking weird, because who the fuck just gives in like that?' Michael returned, but there was no heat behind his words, only a lingering curiosity.

'People who can admit they've done bad things,' Gavin replied quietly, and it was so unlike the answer Michael expected him to give that he was rendered speechless. Gavin took that as wordless encouragement to keep speaking, so he did. 

‘I can admit that this whole shebang, the deathrow with a side dish of torture, I don't want it. I'm not bloody insane. I don't regret it, but I don’t think I should just get away with it. I deserve it, and I know I do, and I’m just saving myself dignity by not running away from it.’ He paused. ‘Your insults are funny, by the way.’

Michael stared at him, mind still trying to process this, the cynical side immediately jumping to the conclusion that this was a ploy, that Gavin was just playing up to his good side in hopes he’d let him go.

But he could see the honesty in the other man’s face.

‘Why’d you do it then?’ he asked before he could stop himself. Gavin looked up at him, surprised. He stared at him for a good moment before he shook his head, chuckling self-depreciatingly.

‘What, you’re not going to give me a response?’ At the silence that pressed in, Michael had his answer. He narrowed his eyes. ‘Fuck you, Free. Didn’t want your fucking story anyway,' he spat childishly.

He took several deep breaths, trying to reign in his anger. He quickly realised this was getting them nowhere, and they'd been standing in front of the creepy hole for a while now.

They needed to get their asses in gear. ‘So, how are we meant to fit through that?’ he asked again, and he received no response. ‘Okay. I think I’m too fat to get through there, but we’ll see.’

‘You’re not fat,’ Gavin said quietly from behind him, and Michael tried not to let the surprise show on his face.

‘What? No, I wasn’t saying I am, it’s just a saying, kind of...’ he trailed off. ‘But um, thanks I guess,’ he tacked on. _If he thinks being nice is going to get him anywhere…_

Gavin shook his head dismissively, changing the subject more effectively than Michael had. ‘You have to duck, kind of. It’s hard to figure out. Like this.’ He demonstrated, and Michael attempted to mimic the motion on the actual hole but stopped.

‘I don’t want to get stuck,’ he admitted.

‘You won’t, trust me. If Dan could fit through here, you can,’ Gavin disagreed.

‘Dan?’ Michael asked, and Gavin’s head shot up.

‘No, I-’

‘Dan,’ Michael repeated.

Gavin looked uncomfortable. ‘Anyway. Look, just do what I said, and you’ll be fine.’

Michael hesitated for a moment before he let it go. ‘Alright, fine. Like… like this?’ he tried, but stopped again. ‘I really don’t want to get stuck.’ He laughed awkwardly. ‘I don’t like tight spaces.’

Gavin looked at him sympathetically. ‘I’ll show you. I’ll go through there and come back,' he said, and finally, Michael agreed. He kept a tight grip on the rope as Gavin bent like he demonstrated and slipped through the hole easily, waving on the other side before starting to go back through again.

‘No, wait there,’ Michael said. He took a deep breath and started to squeeze through the hole.

‘That’s it, keep your knees bent. Just duck your head there,’ Gavin coaxed. Michael kept taking huge breaths, trying to prevent the panic from taking over. He felt his belt loop get snagged and he felt his breathing escalate, and he quickly reached back and fumbled with sweaty hands to free himself.

Time seemed to drag on forever as he pulled his body between the tight rocks, but eventually, he gradually wormed his way out, towards Gavin, who was waiting for him with calming gestures and comforting words. Michael finally stepped free and collapsed on the ground, breathing hard.

‘Jesus, fuck. I thought I was going to die,’ he admitted, rubbing at his face with both hands. When he looked up again, Gavin was looking sadly back at him. Michael hated the look on the man’s face, like he knew something Michael didn’t and he pitied him greatly for it, so he rocketed to his feet with a snarl.

‘What?’ he demanded angrily, and Gavin shook his head. ‘What?’ he demanded again, but emphasised it with a double handed shove, stepping forward so the rope didn’t yank him down as Gavin fell.

Gavin landed with a thud, the air whooshing out of him as his ribs collided with the roots of a tree, his head narrowly avoiding it. He stayed for a moment, winded, before Michael yanked on the rope again to get him moving.

‘We don’t have all fucking day,’ he cursed, and Gavin crawled back into a standing position, using the tree for support as he held onto his ribs. He saw Michael pause and look at him expectantly. ‘The fuck you waiting for?’ Michael asked, tugging the rope again.

Gavin followed obediently, confused as to the attitude change. Not that he had much of a comparison, but the way he treated him at a few points was almost like equals, until he eventually slipped back into yanking him along and treating him like an animal.

It felt sort of like a power game, the way he pulled at the ropes, but Gavin assumed it was how he treated all the bounties.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked, and Michael looked back at him, annoyance flashing across his features.

‘To the fucking moon. To home, idiot,’ Michael sneered.

‘But which way?’ Gavin asked.

‘The way of none of your fucking business, that’s what way.’ 

Gavin shrugged, ‘Cool.’

There were a few minutes of silence, broken only by the snapping of twigs and branches underfoot and the occasional birdcall echoing throughout the forest.

‘What’s your favourite colour?’ Gavin asked randomly. Michael turned back to him, an insult on his lips, but just rolled his eyes and considered it.

‘Not sure. Blue, I guess.’

‘What kind of blue?’ Gavin asked, pondering the answer as if it was a golden nugget of information.

‘I don’t know. Icy blue.’ Michael replied, tugging the rope and causing Gavin to nearly trip. Gavin ignored that and pulled a face.

‘Everyone always compares blue to two colours, the ocean or the sky. At least icy is a little bit different, even if it’s still pretty common,' Gavin decided, apparently kind enough to express his blessing of Michael's choice.

‘Sorry if my comparison isn’t good enough for you,’ Michael said sarcastically. ‘Now shut the fuck up.’

‘Aw, but I just want to find out more about you,’ Gavin teased, and Michael stopped, giving him a weird look.

‘I don’t _want_ you knowing more about me, you dickcheese. You kill people.’

 

Gavin sighed, temporarily disheartened but nowhere close to giving up. If it was the last thing he did before he died, which it probably would be, it would be to befriend the man who lead him to his death.

 

  
\----

They’d made their way out of the forest surrounding the wall encompassing the plains, and were passing through dusty shepherd’s trails, on their way to the nearest town.

Michael wasn’t happy about it, but they needed supplies desperately, and Laurence – the town on the right hand side of the plains, where they’d come out – was the closest thing. It was also furthest from Bard out of the four, which resided on the left hand side, leaving Tarn between the two at the bottom and some other town, Bell? at the top.

So it was his best chance at getting in and out of there with Gavin as quickly as possible, with the lowest possible chance of him being recognised. Michael had to work off the assumption that he would be recognised, so while they travelled Michael was mentally mapping out the backstreet routes around the town.

He hadn’t realised he’d been mumbling aloud until Gavin piped up behind him.

‘What was that?’ he asked, thinking he was being talked to. Michael shook himself.

‘Nothing, just figuring out ways to save your ass,’ he replied, chastising himself for possibly allowing himself to be overheard. Michael glanced behind him to see Gavin looking bewildered, and Michael was quick to rectify the misunderstanding.

‘To get you in and out of Laurence without you getting fucking killed. You’re no damn use to me if you're dead.

Understanding cleared Gavin’s face. 

Michael wanted to laugh at the very idea that Gavin might have considered Michael wasn't going to turn him in. It was pathetic, honestly. But Michael knew that was just Gavin's nature, he wasn't just trying to weasel his way out.

Somehow, that made it a little bit worse.

Michael shook his head and tried to change the subject.

‘Don’t suppose you’d know any backstreets around that town?’ he chanced, and wasn’t surprised to see Gavin shake his head.

‘Never been there, lad,’ he responded cheerfully. ‘Wouldn’t have minded, you know, in better circumstances. To give it a bit of a look see, take a gander. Would have been lovely I imagine.’

‘Fascinating,’ Michael replied sarcastically, too preoccupied with his plans to even tell him to shut up.

‘I loved travelling, honestly. Me and Dan-’

‘Dan and I,’ Michael interrupted distractedly. He hadn’t even intended to, it was just such second nature from all the friendly banter with Geoff and the rest.

Gavin gave him a look. ‘ _Dan and I_ were gunna travel the world, he reckons. All around the land, just him and I.’ He sighed reminiscently.

Michael frowned. ‘Until you killed three kids,’ he reminded casually.

Gavin twisted his face. ‘That’s not the way to look at it,’ he lectured wisely, but it sounded forced. ‘I mean, at least I get to see all these places now! Even if people are trying to kill me.’ He managed to sound legitimately pleased about it.

Michael shook his head, unable to comprehend how he even managed to keep such an outlook. Maybe he really was insane.

Oh well, it didn’t matter much to Michael. As long as he got him back to the headquarters, safe and sound, Michael was happy. Well, to be more direct, as long as he got the two hundred thousand that Gavin’s pretty little head was worth. Maybe if he waited a few days extra, he could get back after it spiked up another fifty thousand and cash in on that too?

Now that was a plan.

Except Gavin was so damn infuriating. Trying to make conversation every other second, constantly complaining about the rope burn Michael was giving him, shrugging off his insults like they were nothing to him (which they probably were, the man was probably used to being insulted all the time) and just generally seeming uncaring about the fact Michael was still leading him to his death.

‘Are you still talking?’ he muttered as he zoned back in, realising that, in fact, Gavin _was_ still rambling on about this and that. He didn’t even have the grace to look offended, simply nodding, not even bothering to stop his talking to confirm exactly that.

‘-at sunset, and I mean really nice. One of the few things in life I can pay attention to for more than five minutes,’ Gavin laughed.

‘I’d have to see that to believe it _,_ ’ Michael replied drily. ‘Shut _up,’_ he quickly interjected, when Gavin went to respond (probably to whine at him in that annoying tone). He held up a finger for a second before pointing it forward. ‘Laurence ahoy.’ His enthusiasm, or lack thereof, was practically dripping from his voice, but Gavin more than made up for it with his cheer.

‘Yay! You know, I’m thinking-’ he ignored Michael's laugh, ‘that since I hid so well in the plains for so long, I should count myself as having visited all the surrounding towns.’ He nodded, as if that logic made any sense.

‘Alright, a: You didn’t hide “so well”, I found you within two days of entering the fucking plains. B: It wasn’t “so long” either, because, again, I found you within two days of entering the plains, four days after finding out about you and two of those were walking, _and_ not to mention it’s barely been more than a week since the bounties been out,’ Michael cut down. He paused, bewilderment prominent in his expression. ‘So how the fuck did you reach that conclusion?’

Gavin shrugged, ignoring his rant and answering the question. ‘Because the plains is divided up into four quarters, one for each town, and since I was _there_ I’m thinking I should count it all.’

‘Did you go to all four quarters?’

‘Well, no, but-’

‘Then you haven’t seen all four towns. Now shut up,’ Michael said, and Gavin flinched pre-emptively, expecting a harsh yank on the ropes. When it didn’t come, he looked at Michael hopefully, who ignored him and faced away, acting as if he hadn’t seen a thing.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, and they started towards the town once more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that a Doctor Who reference yeah maybe  
> chapter 10, delivered as promised ye  
> Read & review, yo

An hour later they’d arrived, and Michael yanked him off to the side before they entered the gates. He slid his jacket off and handed it to him, rolling his eyes when he realised Gavin couldn’t do anything with it.

‘I’m going to untie you, just for a minute. You’re going to put this on and then I’m going to tie you back up. You’re not going to make a move in any way, shape or form, you understand?’ Michael said rapidly, yanking on the ropes for good measure. He felt no pleasure, nor any guilt, in the way Gavin sucked in another breath and rubbed at his raw wrists, nodding.

‘Alright,' he said, and began undoing the knots. He was surprised to see just how much damage he’d caused to the other man’s wrists. They were chafing and red raw, blood spotting in some places where the roped had rubbed continuously.

But just because he was surprised, didn’t mean he cared. He’d caused many men much pain before, often in this own way, and they’d all actually deserved it. Not that Gavin didn’t deserve it, but everybody he’d intentionally caused pain to had actively done things to deserve it, such as being rude, aggressive, cocky, or just generally dislikeable to cause Michael to do it. 

Gavin so far had only been, well… _nice_. Michael was beginning to suspect the man was bipolar, because he’d change so constantly from happy, annoying, overly friendly and fucking loud to quiet and withdrawn.

In the dark recesses of his mind, Michael knew he was no such thing. Gavin only became withdrawn when Michael pushed him. To be fair though, he skipped over nearly everything Michael had said with the proper intention of angering or upsetting him. For some reason, he got upset over the little things.

His book.

His friends.

Oh, and not to mention the fucking murders.

There was still no escape attempt to speak of, and a tiny flame of doubt began in Michael’s mind. Gavin had said repeatedly that he wasn’t going to run, and had even gone as far as to say he deserved it, but Michael had remained sure it was a ploy to get on his side.

As time wore on though, so did his resolve. Perhaps the man really _was_ prepared to die.

Shaking his head and ignoring his mind, Michael finished untying the knots and quickly threw the jacket over Gavin, who gave him an irritable look.

‘Let me bloody stretch my arms, they’ve been in the one position for like two days,' he grumbled, and without waiting, he moved to stretch.

‘Not a chance,’ Michael hissed, grabbing his wrist and twisting it painfully. Gavin dropped to his knees to escape the grip and Michael immediately pushed him into the ground, slamming his face into the dirt. ‘I said _don’t fucking move._ ’ 

‘Are you going to do as I say?’ he demanded, and Gavin nodded.

As soon as Michael let him up he was back, grinning again, uncaring that half his face was caked with dirt. ‘Is that how you treat a lady?’ he winked.

Michael ignored him. ‘Jacket.’

Gavin obliged, tugging it on and snuggling himself in it securely, making appreciative sounds. ‘Ooh, I see why you wear this all the times, it’s so comfortable! I could live in this. It’s so warm!’ he crooned, clutching it tight.

‘Hands,’ Michael demanded again, the air of professionalism. As professional as you could be with a grown man snuggling himself into your jacket right in front of you, making odd noises of delight. The breaking point was when Gavin tucked his head into his shoulder, closing his eyes, before his head shot up and he was grinning ear to ear.

‘Michael! It even _smells_ like you!’ he exclaimed.

Having successfully retied Gavin’s hands, Michael stepped back and nodded in satisfaction at his work before he finally reacted to Gavin’s cries.

‘You’re an idiot,’ he said, shaking his head, but a smile tugged at his lips. He imagined he should be creeped out – the man was a murderer, after all – but for some reason he couldn’t find it in him to care. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, and Gavin noted silently that this was the first time in a while he’d announced their leaving without yanking Gavin along.

He didn’t comment on it, choosing instead to ask another question. ‘Won’t people think it’s weird you’ve got me tied to you?'

‘I’ll just tell them you’re my slave. That's if they don’t recognise you.’

Gavin frowned. ‘Slavery’s been abolished,’ he muttered.

Michael rolled his eyes. ‘If they ask, which they shouldn’t, we’ll tell them to mind their own fucking business.’ 

‘Can’t argue with that, I guess,’ Gavin shrugged, and felt the first flutters of fear as they passed through the looming gates. ‘Did you think of a route?’ he asked, and Michael glanced at him.

‘Of course I fucking did. Now shut up, and keep your head down,’ he said, keeping his own head up and his eyes and ears alert.

They reached the first grocery store without incident, and Michael breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He didn’t feel much like fighting right now.

He took a quick glance around the shop and led Gavin to what they needed, handing it to him to hold as he sorted through the options. He was nearly done when he heard a rough voice behind them.

‘Bit odd, isn’t it,' the man started, and Michael clenched his jaw. 'You don't see many people led around by a rope nowadays.'

His words were the right degree of casual, but they held an undercurrent of threat Michael picked up on miles away. Slowly, nose raised like a sniffer dog, Michael turned around.

‘Bit odd to see people sticking their nose into business that isn’t theirs,’ he shot back, just as quickly. He didn’t dare turn around and glance at Gavin, hoping silently that he would keep his head down and his mouth shut.

‘It’s just, the only people that do that anymore are bounty hunters. And surely, they wouldn’t come through here,’ the man replied, but he didn’t move from where he was standing.

_You’re fucking kidding me, right. The guy doesn’t even care who I have tied up, he's just looking to pick a goddamn fight._

‘Surely not,’ Michael agreed, biting back his temper. ‘Now move.’

‘Because,’ the man continued, ‘they know we don’t take too kindly to those people around these parts.’

‘ _Those people_ who capture and remove criminals from your society,’ Michael instantly retorted, and knew it was the wrong thing to say. The man smirked and leaned cockily backwards.

‘Sally, I don’t think you’ll want to be selling to these people. I knew they were bounty hunters,’ he said smugly, and straightened up. ‘Now let’s see who you’ve got here.’ He lunged forward.

Michael was quicker, deflecting him from Gavin and pushing him instantly back a few steps, sword drawn and at the ready.

The man froze immediately, and held his hands up. ‘Well, alright,’ he said. ‘I was just-’ he broke off and lunged forward again, and despite the fact that Michael realised his intentions, there wasn’t enough room between them to do anything, short of killing him, besides dance out of the way.

It was a mistake, although it prevented him from getting hurt, because the man fell forward onto Gavin, and pushed him forwards onto the stand. Gavin’s head immediately shot up, a knee-jerk reaction, but it was the second and final mistake.

The man recognised him instantly, and from the gasp he heard behind him, Michael knew the shopkeeper did too. He heard the woman scream and he cursed, dragging the man off of Gavin and throwing him to the ground.

He turned to Gavin. ‘Let’s go,' he ordered, and he glanced up to see Gavin nod weakly.

He was about to start running when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and he flicked his foot up and out of the way of the reaching hand, bringing it back down as hard as he could a second later, the _crunch_ of bones and flesh under his hand giving him a sense of satisfaction.

More movement – behind Gavin. He’d barely registered it and he was shoving Gavin down and out of the way, the items he’d still been holding onto flying out of his hands.

Gavin managed to catch himself, maintaining his balance and not falling too clumsily despite his tied hands. He straightened in time to feel a harsh yanking on his upper arm, and he was slammed into a stand face first.

‘Gavin!’ Michael yelled. He threw a final punch into the throat of his opponent and immediately spun, sprinting for Gavin’s attacker and throwing himself onto his back. It succeeded in throwing the man off balance, and Michael leaped off his back and landed nimbly on the ground, grabbing Gavin’s wrist and tugging him up.

‘Up, now!’ he yelled, spinning around. The man with the broken hand was still on the ground, Michael’s opponent was advancing towards them and the man he’d just knocked over was slowly straightening up.

In a split second decision Michael whirled to face Gavin and raised his sword up high. He saw the terror flash across Gavin’s face _maybe he’s not so ready to die after all_ and brought his sword down, carefully severing the rope tying Gavin’s hands together in two.

Shock flitted across Gavin’s features, but by that time Michael was grabbing his hand, screaming ‘Run!’ and pulling him along, avoiding the man in front of them by a hairs breadth, keeping one eye on the stranger’s hand grasping at Gavin’s back and the other eye on the door in front of them.

They burst out and froze, hearing the shouts of the men inside, and a second later they were running again, Michael a split second in front of Gavin and leading the way, keeping a firm grasp on his hand as they pelted back the way they came.

They were out of the gates by the time the yelling reached the watchmen, and they were too far out and much faster than any pursuers they could see behind them. Regardless, they kept running full pelt for another good few minutes until they came to the edge of a forest and they ducked inside.

They slowed to a stop, gasping for breath, and Michael realised he was still holding tight to Gavin’s hand. He dropped it like it burnt him, but grabbed it back a second later, indecisive as he realised he had no way of making sure Gavin stayed.

‘Shit!’ he cursed, and Gavin looked at him curiously, still panting for breath.

‘I mean, I’m all for holding hands, but-’ he started, but Michael cut him off with a huff.

‘Shh for a sec,’ Michael commanded, but with none of his usual hostility. He was still pumped from the fight and their escape, and still on the alert for any persistent pursuers. He looked at Gavin, who was staring at their joined hands, and he squeezed it subconsciously to get his attention.

‘Sit down, on your hands,’ Michael ordered, ‘Actually, on your right hand, and give your left to me.’

Looking confused, Gavin followed the orders.

‘So you can’t run, or attack me without me having leverage,’ Michael explained, and leaned against the tree. He’d already regained most of his breath, but Gavin was still breathing hard.

‘Show us your face,’ Michael muttered tilting Gavin’s chin with his free hand to get a better look at him. ‘It’ll bruise, but that’s not a bad thing. It might help disguise you a bit to other people at first glance. Looks like it’ll hurt like a motherfucker, though,’ he admitted.

Gavin lifted one shoulder and dropped it. ‘You’re lucky. It could have been a lot worse.' He pulled a cloth out of his bag. ‘Don’t move,’ he warned, slowly letting go of Gavin’s wrist to retrieve a water bottle and partially wet the cloth.

‘Stay still. This’ll sting.’ He began wiping away the dirt and blood on Gavin’s face. He tried to ignore the way Gavin winced and flinched away under his hands, but eventually Michael gave in and became gentler with his ministrations.

‘Fucking baby,’ he chastised as he dabbed away, and mentally lectured himself. 

 _Be professional,_ he thought, but forgot about it when Gavin finally gave him a look besides sad or confused. A shy smile lit his features, and Michael felt his own face soften, ‘Here, Gavin,' he said, handing him the rest of the bottle to drink.

Gavin accepted it and guzzled some before he swallowed heavily and looked at Michael again, this time slyly. Michael narrowed his eyes, body naturally tensing even as his mind recognised that this might not necessarily mean a proper threat.

He didn’t need to voice his question, simply arching an eyebrow, and Gavin looked at him from the corner of his eye.

‘That’s the first time you’ve said my name,’ he said, and Michael ran a hand down his face wearily.

‘Really,’ he asked drily.

‘Well, my first name,’ Gavin amended.

‘You’re a fucking idiot,’ Michael said, as if it was news to either of them, and tried his best to hide the smile threatening to spread across his face. ‘Up,’ he ordered, grabbing Gavin’s wrist and tugging him to his feet, ‘we’ve got to keep moving.’  

Short of holding Gavin’s hands together himself the whole way, there was only one thing he could do. He sheathed his sword and withdrew his dagger.

‘You’re walking ahead of me,’ he said, motioning for Gavin to do so, ‘and I’m keeping this here the whole time,’ he warned, gesturing to the dagger, but there was no aggression behind the threat, only fact.

Gavin simply smiled at Michael as he passed him, and off they set again. He was prepared for the next while to pass in silence, and he was just tired enough (mentally and physically) to accept it, so he was surprised when he heard Michael speak up from behind him.

‘Besides…’ he said, and Gavin twisted his neck to glance back at him for a moment. ‘I shouted your name when you got hit earlier.’

‘What? When?’ Gavin demanded, thinking hard.

‘When you got knocked against the fucking thing! It’s not my fault if you didn’t hear me,’ Michael grumbled.

Gavin laughed, conceding. He could vaguely recall it. ‘You know, they say in moments of desperation, you reach out for what means most to you,’ Gavin teased.

Michael laughed. ‘Yeah, of course I’d call out for you. You’re my free two hundred thousand dollars!’

Gavin smiled, albeit with less emotion than before, forgetting that Michael couldn’t see him. There was a slight pause, Michael scanning the landscape and Gavin pondering the universe, before a question broke the silence once more.

‘What if your legs didn't know they were legs?'

'Jesus, Gavin.'


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably tell it's a bit rushed (ye sorry) but I hope yall enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Read & review, yo

‘Gavin, move your _fucking_ ass,’ Michael demanded, waiting for Gavin to move before he set down his pack. ‘Wow, good job,' he spat sarcastically, 'I only had to tell you fifty fucking times.’

‘Michael,’ Gavin whined, and Michael looked up at him in annoyance.

‘For the sake of _fuck_ , you’re a grown ass man, stop whining my name like a little bitch and _shut the fuck up_.’ He rubbed at his forehead in exhaustion and annoyance before double checking the site, glaring with a look that screamed _patience gone_  when Gavin remained, hovering nervously nearby.

'And sit the fuck down- where I can fucking see you,' he demanded, gesturing to the ground in front of him with a raised eyebrow, as if daring Gavin to argue.

Gavin sighed and did as he was told, dropping himself to the ground with a huff. ‘You could ask nicely, you don’t have to be so rude,’ he complained, actual bitterness in his tone.

‘If you weren’t such a fucking idiot, I’d be a lot nicer,’ Michael shot back. ‘It’s your fucking fault I’m in a shit mood. If you knew how to obey instructions…’ He trailed off, realising it was pointless, but Gavin wasn’t so quick to give in.

‘I sat down as soon as you told me,’ he whined, lifting his arms and scratching at his face.

‘One, no you didn’t, I told you about a _thousand_ goddamn times. And two, that’s not what I’m talking about. I fucking _told_ you to keep your head down and keep your mouth shut but for God’s sake you didn’t even know how to do that.’

Michael spat on the tree next to Gavin, and the foreign man looked shocked. 

Good. Michael needed to do something, and even if it didn't hit him, spitting at him was gross and vicious. He desperately wanted to scream, but he was trying to remain calm for Gavin’s sake, which he promptly told him in a quiet growl.

Gavin flinched at the reminder. Since Laurence, they’d walked for a good God knows how long until they’d come across a tiny riverbank town, so small it could barely be considered as such. Michael couldn’t recall the name, something beginning with M, but they could both clearly recall the enthusiasm with which they were treated.

It was going well, they were in another food store, Michael was surveying the options when Gavin had had the nerve to put his head up, tug at Michael’s sleeve and whine that he was hungry. Michael had hissed at him to shut the fuck up before he got them both killed, Gavin had obeyed, and they’d shopped for another five minutes before inevitably, Gavin had piped up again.

‘Michael, can we just-’

‘Free, if you don’t shut your god damn mouth this instant I’m not going to give two _fucks_ about the bounty, I will slit your throat right here myself.’ Michael interrupted, eyes narrowed and nostrils flared with rage. Gavin had taken it as his cue to shut up, finally, when they’d heard a small gasp behind them.

They’d both turned, Michael with words of excuses on his lips, but he didn’t count on Gavin turning too, and giving the woman who’d overheard a nice view of the face of wanted criminal, child murdering Gavin Free himself.

It had all gone downhill from there.

‘Twice. Twice, in one. Fucking. Day.’

Michael was growling. He was absolutely _livid,_ still shaking with anger and adrenaline despite the fact the fight had been over for a good few hours. ‘I have never, in my _entire life_ been caught out twice, in food stores, with a goddamn bounty. Never. And you’ve managed to fuck it up already.’

‘The first time wasn’t really my fault-’

‘If you say _one_ more word, so help me, I will gut you and leave you out here to die.’ The threat was serious, his voice deadly quiet, and Gavin gulped. ‘We’re out here, for the next however long, with no food and two towns that are aware someone has caught you and is bringing you in to pay.’

Gavin was silent, but now Michael was working himself up, hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white.

‘You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for five goddamn minutes,’ he hissed, shaking his head. ‘Five minutes and we could have been out of there with food and you could have complained all you wanted, but you couldn’t shut up for _five goddamn minutes!_ ’ 

‘Mic-’

Without a split second of hesitation, Michael reached down and yanked him up, body straining with unreleased anger. He grabbed Gavin’s collar with one hand and punched him solidly in the side of the face with the other. He did it again, twice more until his fist was bloodied and he was shaking.

He let go of Gavin, who dropped immediately. Michael turned away, still seeing red but considerably feeling better, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye - Gavin, trying desperately to struggle free of his ropes. 

For a long moment, Michael stood frozen, uncomprehending, before the rage boiled up and took over again and he couldn’t _see,_ nothing but a familiar wall of blinding red as he lashed out with his foot, landing his boot in Gavin’s ribs over and over again.

The man curled in on himself in a pathetic attempt to ward off the worst of the blows, and Michael’s kicks landed themselves on Gavin’s upper arms and chest. He’d swung his foot back, shaking with the urge to kick Gavin’s goddamn _teeth_ in, but stopped.

Breathing out through his nose, Michael dropped his foot, balancing himself, before sliding against a tree to the ground in exhaustion. The anger faded, leaving only tiredness and a small pang of regret.

Free was going to be _so_ much harder to move now.

With a sigh, Michael hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the muffled whimpers of the bleeding man next to him, and started building up the fire. After a moment he realised that, for optimal sleeping placement, he’d have to move Gavin, so he hesitated momentarily, trying to decide how to go about this.

He decided to be straightforward, and he moved over behind him and gripped Gavin under the armpits, lifting him slightly and dragging him over to the nearest tree. From there, he figured he might as well make sure he was secure while he was at it, so he grabbed the rope (the only thing they’d managed to acquire, stolen or not) that was already around Gavin’s wrists and tied it to the tree.

Satisfied, he avoided looking at him and continued building the fire, having aborted it halfway through so he could tie Gavin up and make sure he wouldn’t escape. Although, he knew it wasn’t likely Gavin would be moving anytime soon.

Michael sighed again, realising he’d have to patch him up sooner rather than later if he wanted to be sure the man hadn’t broken anything.

On top of being slammed into the counter at Laurence, he’d been put into a chokehold at that little town. Add the injuries Michael had just given to him and he wasn’t going to be looking too good for a while.

At least he hadn’t killed him. That was on the plus side, or at least it was meant to be. Not to mention Michael felt better. He hadn’t exactly intended to cause as much damage as he had, but really, he’d needed the release. Gavin wasn’t dead, so no harm done.

He studiously ignored the little feeling of guilt worming away at his heart.

‘Gavin,’ he called gently. The man didn’t stir, his head still buried in his arms with his knees drawn up to his chest. ‘Gavin,’ he called again, making his way over. He laid a hand on Gavin’s shoulder and shook gently, and the man just curled further in on himself. A flash of impatience shot through Michael and his grip tightened, but he made an effort to keep his voice level.

‘I have to clean you up,’ he informed him, and Gavin shook his head.

Michael waited, but Gavin didn't seem inclined to speak to him, or make any move to let Michael do as he wished. With a sigh, Michael ran a hand through his hair and spoke again.‘Don’t make me make you,’ he said simply, and at this, the man unfurled, raising his head slowly to look at Michael through the eye that wasn’t swelling rapidly shut.

Michael wasn’t really surprised to see how much damage he’d caused. He’d known it would be a lot. He simply sunk down next to Gavin, distantly realised that this was the furthest he’d ever let his guard down (besides sleeping, which he didn’t count). He would have liked to think it was because he knew the man was currently no danger, but at the same time he knew it was because he wanted to offer a small degree of comfort.

He started surveying the injuries. His nose was bloodied, but upon further inspection not broken. He’d have a swollen eye that would turn into a black eye over the course of the next few days, but no severe damage.

Michael swallowed. ‘Shirt off,’ he said simply, and paused when he realised Gavin couldn’t go through with the task, for multiple reasons. His hands were tied together, and even if they weren’t Michael doubted he had the energy to lift his shirt over his head.

He took a deep breath and blew it out again before reaching into his back pocket and retrieving his dagger. Gavin’s gaze followed his movements warily, and when Michael withdrew the dagger he shot up, his breath quickening.

Michael rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, you big baby,’ he said, ignoring how incredibly stupid of a thing that was to say, before he paused. He’d originally been planning to cut Gavin’s shirt open, but since he only had one other he figured it might be worth salvaging it.

Instead, he put the dagger back in his pocket and began untying the rope from Gavin’s wrists. After a moment’s consideration he re-tied it around his ankle, and Gavin gave a weak experimental kick before turning his attention to his newly freed wrists, rubbing them and twisting them gently. Michael knew his arms were cramped from being in the same position, so when Gavin tenderly stretched his arms up, face scrunching as well as it could at the pain, he let it slide, simply keeping a cautious eye on Gavin’s movements.

When his arms came down to rest gingerly at his sides, Michael shook his head. ‘You have to lift them again. Your shirt is coming off.  I gotta, you know, check if anything’s… yeah.’

Gavin shook his head weakly. ‘It’s fine. Nothin’s broken,’ he whispered, voice rasping.

Michael raised an eyebrow.‘Right. Forgive me for, you know, not believing you. Up,’ he commanded.

_That’s not what you should be asking him to forgive you for._

That was a thought Michael promptly ignored with a tight smile and an internal growl.

Gavin tried to refuse, tried to pull the shirt up and off of his own accord, but it quickly became apparent he just couldn’t do it. With one final glance at Michael he pulled an arm in to allow Michael to slip the sleeve over, then the other, and after that it was a matter of gently tugging the shirt up and over his head.

Michael didn’t appreciate the pang of guilt he felt, because when he thought about it (which he was trying not to do) Gavin hadn’t done very much wrong. Michael hadn’t caused this much harm to someone since they tried to kill him, and Gavin’s accidental mistake in the shop and erstwhile stubbornness was nowhere near on par with that.

Still, he refused to apologise, or even come to terms with the fact the guilt he was feeling might be somewhat appropriate of a reaction. So instead he backed away, reaching behind him for his pack and securing it, drawing it in close.

He rummaged through it for a moment, drawing out the basic medical supplies he carried with him and laying them out beside them. A roll of bandages, some willowbark and birchbark. Not exactly what you’d call hospital grade.

Regardless, it was something, so he turned back to Gavin and reached out to start determining the damage done. He tried to ignore the way Gavin flinched away, the way his breathing quickened and how his whole body tensed before Michael could even touch him.

He couldn’t ignore it, though, so instead he licked his lips and reached out, as gently as possible, and started feeling along the blossoming bruises that covered Gavin’s torso for breaks. Finding no breaks but a few sore spots (assumedly where he’d focused his first couple of kicks) he decided he might as well wrap Gavin’s ribs and hope they weren’t fractured.

Before he did he quickly checked his arms, where he’d landed a few kicks, and found several bruises only slightly better off  than the ones covering his stomach, chest and ribs. He couldn’t exactly do much about that, so he moved on.

‘Alright, this will probably hurt, so I’m sorry, but I’m gunna wrap your ribs, okay?’ Michael asked, unravelling a length of bandage as he spoke. He didn't really know what else to do.

‘Why you apologising?’ Gavin laughed weakly, but it came out as a cough, and a small smattering of blood came from his mouth. Michael’s eyes flew to his, panicking (what if he’d caused internal bleeding?) but he quickly realised he’d just split his lip and more than likely cut his mouth up on accident.

Relaxing minutely, he pursed his lips as he tried to figure out how to go about this. He’d never exactly wrapped someone’s ribs for them before, and certainly never someone he’d just beat the shit out of, so it was a shiny new experience for him.

‘Um, sit up straight,’ he said, licking his lips subconsciously as he figured out a plan. ‘And lean forward.’

When Gavin complied, slowly and painfully, Michael quickly reached around behind him, eyes narrowing at the way Gavin tensed under him, and he began the arduous process of wrapping him up. Every time he reached around him, Gavin would tense up, and despite the situation it began to wear on Michael’s nerves.

‘I’m not going to fuckin’ hit you again,’ he said finally, as he straightened up and started taping the bandages together. ‘So you can stop flinching away from me every other second.’

Alright, well, he’d never intended to be _comforting,_ but he hadn’t exactly meant to come across quite so harshly.

Gavin, in turn just looked at him. Michael pulled away, scrubbing a hand down his face. ‘Jesus, I’ve never felt bad for kicking the shit out of someone before.’ He laughed awkwardly, but honesty crept into his tone.

‘I’ve never had someone feel bad for kicking the shit out of me before,’ Gavin joked quietly in return, and Michael turned to him in surprise at the fact he’d spoken again at all.

‘Does that happen alot?’ Michael asked jokingly. Gavin laughed quietly but avoided his eyes, and curiosity sparked in Michael. ‘Seriously?’ he asked, waiting for Gavin to deny it.

Gavin just made a questioning noise, eyes closing.

Michael frowned. ‘Really?’ he pushed, and Gavin shrugged.

‘Not anymore,’ he said, and looked content to leave it at that, but Michael wanted an explanation.

‘So, in the past?’ he asked, hoping to come off as casual, but he knew Gavin heard the interest in his tone and he cursed himself for it.

‘Childhood,’ was all Gavin said, and a look of realisation dawned on Michael’s face.

‘Oh, right. Everyone gets in fights in childhood,’ he said amiably. Gavin smiled, but it came out more as a grimace, and he said nothing in response; leaving a painful silence hanging uncomfortably above their heads.

‘Right,’ Michael said awkwardly. ‘Look, you should, um… you should sleep,’ he said, and nodded. ‘I’ll keep an eye out.’

When he turned back, Gavin hadn’t looked away, still watching him carefully. The dried blood crusting on his face did nothing to soothe Michael’s nerves. 

‘Oh, for fucks sake,’ Michael groaned, and grabbed a bottle of water. ‘Come here,’ he said, which was ridiculous because there was no way Gavin could move, so he got up, grabbing the spare shirt out of the pack and made his way over. ‘Wash your face and then I’ll tie you back up.’

With his command issued, Michael settled in next to the fire, body welcoming the warmth. Gavin just nodded and looked warily at the cloth before giving in and wetting it, dabbing gently at his face. Staring resolutely at the fire, Michael ignored the way Gavin winced and tried to muffle the small noises of pain he made. Instead he focused on stretching his legs out and soaking up the warmth of the fire next to him. He tilted his head back and stayed like that for a minute, making sure Gavin would certainly be done by the time he looked over at him next.

He was pleased to see he was right. He got up and picked his way over to where Gavin sat. ‘Alright,’ he said decidedly, and reached down to untie the rope from around his ankles and rebind his hands, pointedly ignoring the state of Gavin’s wrists.

When he was done, Michael turned away to replace the cloth back in his pack, and when he turned back the bottle was closer to him than it had been previously. He looked at it for a second, confused, before he turned to Gavin, who was looking at him with a straight face.

Michael arched an eyebrow. ‘Dude, what the fuck,’ was all he said, picking up the water bottle and moving it back next to Gavin. ‘No dying on my watch.’

He stayed for a moment, making sure Gavin didn’t move it again, before he turned and wandered back to where he’d set up his bed on the other side of the fire.

‘Don’t you dare!’ he called back over his shoulder, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Gavin freeze, midway through reaching for the bottle. Gavin giggled slightly, Michael sighed exasperatedly, and suddenly, somehow, they were back in the routine they’d managed to acquire in the few days they’d known each other.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Michael muttered rhetorically, a smile dancing lightly across his lips, and he settled down next to the fire to sleep. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F-f-f-fiiillaah.  
> tw for ableism slur  
> But regardless, enjoy :)
> 
> read & review, yo

When Michael blinked himself awake, the sun was just rising, and he felt himself shiver as he glanced to the side and saw the fire had gone out.

‘Fucking shit dicks,’ he muttered, surprised he wasn’t an ice cube, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He spared a glance over at Gavin, subconsciously wincing as he took in the the state of the other man.

‘Did you sleep at all?’ Michael asked after a moment, eyes dancing on the bags that had formed that _weren’t_ part of the deep black eye Gavin was sporting. There was a pause before Gavin lifted a shoulder and dropped it noncommittally.

Michael shook his head. ‘Seriously? Not at all?’ he asked, annoyed. This would make the trip a lot longer for the both of them.

‘Couldn’t get warm,’ was all that Gavin said, and Michael turned back to him slowly, appraising the way he was curled in on himself despite the pain his injuries were likely causing. His brow furrowed. The man must be _freezing._

‘Oh, for the love of God,’ Michael groaned. ‘You could have woken me up or something!’

Gavin just shrugged.

‘What, you trying to get yourself killed?’ Michael asked exasperatedly. ‘You could have died, and then all this would be for nothing.’ He muttered something to himself, absentmindedly beginning to pack. It took him a moment to notice the lack of response. ‘What’s this, the silent treatment?’ he asked, laughing at the idea. ‘Oh no, how will I survive?’

Another laugh escaped him. He continued laughing, harder and harder at the idea of Gavin trying to punish him with the silent treatment. 'The cold shoulder,’ he snorted, ‘god, that’s too fucking funny. Oh man.’

He wiped away tears of mirth from his eyes as he tried to reign in his laughter. Eventually he straightened, a small laugh still escaping him occasionally as he went about packing their things. ‘I don’t know why that’s so funny,’ he admitted, chuckling. He glanced at Gavin, who was looking at him, unblackened eye crinkling as he smiled. ‘You’re not meant to find that funny,’ Michael told him. ‘You’re meant to be offended.’

He was distracted from his own words as he rediscovered the beanies he’d bought before. He praised himself as he pulled one out and snuggling it on. It’d probably get hot later, but he loved the way it stopped the wind blowing his curls everywhere.

‘You ready for another big day of walking?’ Michael asked, false enthusiasm dripping from his voice. Gavin gave a small laugh. ‘Right. Me neither,’ Michael agreed, tugging the pack on and turning to him. After a moment, the silence caught up to him once more. ‘How are you, y’know, feeling?’ he asked uncomfortably. Gavin just shrugged again. ‘Oh for fucks sake, talk. You’re allowed to,’ Gavin looked up at him, confusion and surprise crossing his features, and realisation reared it's ugly head.

‘What, you- Seriously? I’m not, I never said-’ Michael cut himself off, shocked. Sure, he’d told him to shut up, but he didn’t mean _permanently_ , he - Jesus Christ.

‘I didn’t mean fucking… you know, _forever,_ I just meant at the time, I didn’t expect you…’ He trailed off, looking at Gavin, who’d ducked his head. His shoulders were shaking suspiciously, and dread shot through Michael.

Is he… _crying?_

Michael blinked, mouth dropping in horror, and took a hesitant step forward. ‘Hey, fuck, I’m sorry.’ He said uselessly, shock coursing through his body. He’d never had to deal with a crying man before, aside from a few situations with a drunken Geoff, and it sure as shit wasn’t on his to do list now.

‘Look, I…’ He trailed off yet again, eyes narrowing in suspicion as Gavin’s shaking form. ‘You fucking _asshole._ ’ 

Gavin finally looked up, shoulders shaking in silent laughter, tears squeezing from his closed eyes as he gasped for air. Every so often he’d make this weird squeaking noise, and Michael just stood there fuming.

‘You’re fucking _kidding_. I thought I’d fucking scared you into perpetual fucking silence or something, I thought you were crying your fucking eyes out, what the fuck! Why the hell would you even fucking play that card, that’s the _weirdest_ and fucking stupidest thing I’ve ever seen a grown man do...’ He ranted, and went ignored as Gavin tilted his head back and opened his eyes, still laughing but trying to capture the look on Michael’s face and commit it to memory.

‘You're an asshole, and sure as shit I fucking _hate_ you, like what the fuck kind of joke is that, seriously?’ Michael scrubbed a hand down his face. ‘You’re a fucking asshole.’  He grumbled again, and Gavin finally got in enough air to speak.

‘You thought… I was crying…’ he gasped out, and then he was off again, weird squeaking noises coming more frequently. Michael groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away.

‘Fucking _retard,_ ’ he cursed again, but he fought the smile growing on his own lips. ‘Absolutely the worst prank I’ve _ever_ seen. Unbelievable.’ He said, and chuckled.

‘Best ever. Haven’t laughed that hard in… years.’ Gavin got out, beginning to compose himself. ‘I think I deserve a high five for that, honestly. High five, Michael?’ He asked, holding his bound wrists out as far as they’d go.

‘You better lower them before I snap your fucking wrists,’ Michael said, shaking his head, but Gavin sensed the lack of threat behind it.

‘High five, Michael!’ Gavin repeated, giggling.

‘High five my fist to your cheek again!’ Michael yelled as he ducked around a tree to piss. He heard rustling and looked over his shoulder to see Gavin lean into his view, a stupid smile sitting on his face. ‘What?’ Michael asked.

‘High five your mouth to my mouth?’ Gavin asked, tugging his lips down to try and keep a straight face. Michael stood there a moment, flabbergasted, before he barked out a laugh.

‘Fucking idiot. Your jokes suck,’ he said, and Gavin gave up on maintaining a straight face and dissolved into laughter again.

‘Maybe I was serious,’ Gavin replied, reaching up and cupping his hands around his mouth in a stage whisper.

‘Maybe I was, too,’ Michael replied innocently, and Gavin stopped for a second. ‘Your jokes really do suck,' he snickered. Gavin tried to look offended.

‘They don’t suck. You suck.’

Michael simply raised an eyebrow. ‘Shit. Better whip out the burn cream for that one.’

‘Run cold water over burned area?’ Gavin giggled.

'Idiot.’ Michael sighed, scanning the area. ‘Mmkay, that’s done, that’s done, _that’s_ fucking done… Alright.’ He nodded to himself and crossed to Gavin. ‘You need to piss or whatever?’ he asked, and Gavin shook his head. ‘Sweet, we are good to go.’

He reached down and grasped Gavin’s hand in his, tugging him up. His eyes flicked up in concern when Gavin let out a pained noise. ‘You good?’ he asked, frowning at himself.  Gavin nodded and sucked in a breath as he struggled the rest of the way to his feet.

‘…Are you sure?’ Michael asked, despite himself.

‘Yep.’ Gavin hissed, and tried to smile. ‘I’m good,' he said, and it sounded more convincing. Michael just nodded and took a step back, releasing him. Gavin stayed bent for a moment before forcing himself to straighten.

Michael felt the small surge of guilt that was becoming _way_ too familiar, and he hovered in concern. ‘We could…’ he started, and trailed off. They could what? Stay here all day? Wait around for the injuries to heal? They should be going _now,_ not waiting around for Gavin to feel better.

He shook his head and picked up the lead of rope. ‘Come on,' he urged, as if Gavin was a horse, and he tugged gently at the rope. Gavin stepped quickly forward, air blowing noisily out his nose in pain, and looked up at Michael in surprise.

‘What?’ Michael demanded.

‘You didn’t…’ Gavin said, before his expression cleared. ‘Never mind. Where too, old chap?’

It was obvious he was trying to lighten the mood.

Exactly why, Michael didn’t know. If anything, wouldn’t he be playing up his injuries, trying to delay the trip a little? Every time Michael thought he understood him, Gavin threw something else his way.

The acceptance of death. The lack of pleading or bargaining. The jokes and airy sense of humour. How he didn’t let Michael get him down, and if he did, not for very long. And now this.

He was fucking full of surprises, and Michael _hated_ surprises. At least when they came in the form of this asshole.

‘I guess fuckin’… we can try and make it to roughly Ardinsworth, that area. They had a little town, Wimble or some shit, right off the border we can buy from. Or I can buy from. I’m thinking I’ll tie you up with the pigs outside,' Michael teased.

Gavin gave an offended gasp. ‘Michael, that was really mean,' he whined, pulling a ridiculously  sad face.

‘Did I hurt your feelings, poor baby.’ Michael rolled his eyes and tugged on the rope out of habit. He regretted it when Gavin stumbled and drew in a pained breath, before straightening instantly.

‘Yep, miffed me right off,' he joked, but there was a strain to his voice that wasn’t there before.

‘How’s your… yeah?’ Michael asked uncomfortably.

‘Tippy top,’ Gavin replied, pasting a smile on, to which Michael scrunched up his face. He decided he’d let the obvious lie go for now, because it wasn’t his business if the idiot wanted to run himself into the ground, and he decided to change the subject.

Speaking of…

‘Tippy top? What the fuck is that? I mean, I’m assuming it’s good, but still, what the fuck?’ Michael asked, and Gavin coughed out a laugh.

‘You need to get up to date on language, Michael, it’s what everyone says back where I’m from,' he defended.

‘I _sincerely_ doubt “everyone” says it back where you’re from.’ He paused. ‘Wherever that is.’

Subtley, he glanced at Gavin from the corner of his eye.

‘They do! Honest! I’m not just muncing up words here and throwing them about.’

Michael stopped. ‘Muncing up words here. That’s…. No, you’re doing _exactly_ that.’ Gavin opened his mouth to respond but Michael cut him off with the wave of a hand.

‘Don’t even. Just shut it. Let’s get a move on.’

‘We’d be doing exactly that if you’d stop faffing about!’

‘Fa- Faffing about?’ Michael repeated incredulously.

‘It’s a real word!’ Gavin cried.

‘No. Nope. Nup. It’s not. Neither is muncing or fucking miffed, or whatever you said earlier.’ Michael shook his head in denial and tugged Gavin along again, this time more gently. ‘Come on, idiot. We have places to go, things to do. We don’t have time for this stupid conversation.’

Gavin just stuck his tongue out at him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are all lovely :D
> 
> read & review, yo

When Gavin stumbled for what seemed like the millionth time that day, Michael gave up with a sigh. ‘Come on, sit the fuck down,' he said, and Gavin opened his mouth to argue.

‘I-’                                                                                              

‘Dude, shut up. I don’t know why the fuck you’re so eager to get there, but you’re no fucking use when you’re collapsing from exhaustion.' Gavin looked at the ground, and Michael felt like even more of a piece of shit. 'Seriously, just sit down,' he repeated, but this time with a gentler tone.

Gavin obeyed, leaning against the nearest tree wearily. ‘Why are you fucking…’ Michael paused, searching for the words. ‘Trying to push yourself? Are you trying to prove something?’

Gavin shook his head, eyes drooping. ‘No,' he mumbled, and slid down till he was in a sitting position.

‘Well what the fuck, dude? You’re pass out tired and acting like you’re not in pain. Like don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not complaining, but it’s…’ He paused again. ‘It’s fucking weird, is what it is.’ He nodded to himself.

Gavin just shrugged and drew his gangly limbs to his chest, resting his head on his knees and wrapping his arms around himself.

‘Are you fucking listening to me?’ Michael demanded, annoyed. Gavin gave a sleepy nod. ‘Great. Then fucking answer me.’

‘If you’re worried it’s a trap or something, don’t worry. I’m not eagerly leading you to your doom,’ Gavin said quietly, yawning when he finished. Michael was still stood there, arms crossed and glaring down at him.

‘That’s not what I was thinking, and even if it was I wouldn’t be worried,' he argued. ‘Seriously, dude.’ He uncrossed his arms and sat down near him, just in arms reach.

Gavin shrugged again, and turned his head towards him. ‘You got stuff back home to get to. Family and friends, and all that,' he replied, not even opening his eyes.

Michael sat there, blinking. The answer wasn’t what he was expecting. ‘So… you’re trying to get me home so I can relax and be with my family?’ he repeated, and Gavin nodded once more. When he was greeted by silence he slowly peeked an eye open, greeted by the site of Michael staring at him, confusion etched across his features.

‘It’s not fair you have to wait longer to get back to people you love just because I can’t move very fast,' Gavin reiterated, hoping to get it through to him. Michael just kept staring, so Gavin tried to explain once more.

‘It’s-’

‘No, I get what you’re saying.’ Michael said, still staring at him with the same expression.

‘Well, what’s the-’ Gavin began to ask.

‘I just don’t get why you’re saying it,' Michael said quietly, and before Gavin could respond he quickly stood up, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and walked away. Gavin followed his retreating back, watching as he surveyed the tree in front of him and quickly began to scale it, expertly shimmying up and finding foot and hand holds frequently enough to haul himself into the branches.

He disappeared out of sight but reappeared a moment later, placing himself in a small alcove between two branches that both supported him and kept him in perfect view of Gavin.

Gavin giggled. ‘Why are you up there, you donut?' he asked, tiredness seeping into his voice.

‘Because the ground is cold as fuck and I wanted to climb a fucking tree, why are you questioning me?’ Michael snapped back.

He had a point. The ground Gavin was residing on was freezing, and the pine nettles beneath him were scratching into him painfully. ‘Fair enough,' Gavin conceded, and resumed his previous position. ‘ ‘m I good to sleep?’ he mumbled.

‘What?’ Michael asked, leaning closer from where he’d moved out of his alcove to perch precariously on one of the branches.

‘Am I good to sleep?’ Gavin asked again, voice rising slightly. Michael frowned. He hadn’t planned on this being their overnight shelter, but he supposed Gavin could have a few hours rest before they started up again.

‘Fine, but I want to keep walking later,' he replied, and he saw Gavin give a small nod in response and rest his head back down on his knees.

 _I don’t know how the fuck that’s comfortable, but whatever._ Michael thought, and he nestled back into the small cover he’d discovered. _I’ll keep watch until the sun hits just above the trees, then I’ll wake him up and we can keep moving until the moon’s high in the sky._

He gave himself a mental pat on the back at his excellent plan and settled in. He watched, for the most part unmoving, as the sun sunk lower and hit the sky line, indicating time to wake Gavin up.

When the time arrived, Michael jumped out of the tree and landed easily, making no more noise than a muffled thump, and he gave himself a self-satisfied smirk as he approached the sleeping man. He reached for his pack and pulled it on, before he crouched down in front of Gavin.

He reached out a hand to shake him gently, but something made him pause.

Michael had never been one for particularly girly thoughts, though he’d never prided himself on being a manly man, but he was surprised when he was hesitant to wake him simply because he looked so peaceful.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand, cursing himself silently as he stood back up and replaced his pack where it had been earlier. He set about making the fire, skilled hands confidently creating the small flame and blowing it to life.

When he was satisfied he sat down and rocked back on his heels, hands running through his hair. He’d have to rethink the plan now, or at least adjust it accordingly, because they were still at least half a day’s walk from Ardinsworth.

They really hadn’t made much progress, despite Gavin’s valiant efforts. He hadn’t complained once, instead brushing off any questions and insisting he was fine. He’d limped the whole way, never once requesting a break, and Michael was slightly ashamed of himself for not offering them to sit down earlier.

He’d known Gavin was in a lot of pain, but that selfish, practical part of him wanted to make them get as far as they could as quickly as possible. So he’d ignored the unintentional whimpers and occasional hiss of pain Gavin made and simply prodded him along, and now his conscience was catching up to him.

He’d never considered himself a cruel man, but he was having trouble rationalising this to himself.

Sighing, Michael dug through his pack in a hopeless search for food. He knew he had nothing, but he decided he might as well anyway. After turning it out he confirmed that, in fact, he _didn’t_ have any food, but they at least had enough water to last them a while.

He pursed his lips. He’d always done better hunting _people,_ but he could certainly hunt animals when the time arose. He supposed now was one of those times, and it was quite honestly, the best moment, considering Gavin was asleep and they had no food at all.

And another thing, when did he start calling him Gavin? For a while, he’d been just Free, same last name basis as every other bounty he’d captured. But when did he progress to Gavin?

Frustrated, Michael shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t be hunting in his distracted state, so he slipped the bow and arrow off his back and set it in its usual position, within reach but hidden from sight. He wasn’t ready to sleep _just_ yet, so he kept his sword on hand and stood.

He didn’t want to hunt, but he could at least forage. But first, despite the fact he was still asleep, Michael had to make sure Gavin wouldn’t move. He hadn’t tethered the rope to the tree Gavin was against, because he knew in Gavin’s state he could easily intervene if the man tried to escape, but he knew if he was going to be out of sight for any length of time he would have to ensure there was no possibility of escape.

So he approached quietly, lifting the rope form where it lay on the ground and carefully knotting it around the tree. Despite his training, he didn’t give the rope around Gavin’s wrists a tug, instead just making sure the one around the tree was stable before he backed away, taking in the site of the sleeping man once more, and turned to leave.

 

\---

When he returned the moon had risen considerably higher in the sky, to the point where Michael had been planning to stop and make camp again earlier. He had in his inventory several different types of berries, and he’d even picked up a familiar mushroom for Gavin because seriously, they were disgusting, but he didn’t know how hungry the man would be.

He was glad, not for the last time, of his experience in situations like this. He hated travelling hungry, and even though it wasn't exactly a feast there were still enough berries to fill each of them up, no problems.

Michael approached, silencing his footsteps out of habit, and placed his items within two huge leaves he’d picked up for that purpose, wrapping them securely and placing them in his bag. He stretched lazily, cocking his head side to side, and allowed the tiredness he’d been pushing down to overtake him.

He was about to settle down for sleep when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He paused, deemed it not a threat, and started considering what to do about it within the space of a few seconds.

Gavin was shivering. It wasn’t exactly the biggest deal, but Gavin was shivering _hard._ He had goosebumps all up his uncovered arms and Michael was pretty sure he could hear his teeth chattering from here.

After a moment of consideration Michael shrugged his jacket off, holding it in front of him for a second, internal debate raging inside him.

He hesitated again, chewing his lip, before he pulled a face and crouched beside Gavin. Reaching out, he pulled Gavin off the tree a tiny bit and slipped the jacket around his shoulders. He was adjusting it properly around him when the man began to stir.

‘Wh.. Michael?’ Gavin asked sleepily, forcing his tired eyes to open.

‘Shh,' Michael hushed, reaching down to unknot the ropes binding Gavin’s wrist.

‘Whas goin’ on?’ Gavin murmured, moving to sit up, but Michael’s gentle hand pushed him back down before he pulled his arms through the jacket.

‘It’s okay. Go back to sleep.’ Michael comforted, and Gavin peered up at him, taking in the new warmth around his shoulders and snuggling down into it, giving Michael a sleepy smile.

‘Thanks, Michael,' he murmured, and his eyes fluttered shut again. Michael deftly retied the ropes and stood back, eyes sweeping over him.

He sucked a breath in, the warm feeling in his stomach intensifying, and he immediately tried to push it down and focus on how tired he was, or how far they had to walk tomorrow, anything besides the way Gavin looked when he slept, the way Gavin murmured Michael’s name sleepily, the way Gavin snuggled down into his jacket. The way Gavin instantly trusted him to go back to sleep despite everything.

Michael tried, but that didn’t mean he succeeded.


	14. Chapter 14

‘Gavin,’ a voice said distantly.

There was a pause.

‘ _Gavin_ ,’ the voice repeated, sounding unimpressed. Gavin twitched.

‘Gavin, if you don’t get your ass the fuck up right now, I swear to God-’

‘What’s… What? I’m up, I’m up. Don’t get your knickers in a twist,’ Gavin mumbled, rubbing his eyes with his fist, gingerly avoiding his black one.

Michael sat back, looking as unimpressed as he sounded. ‘Right,’ he said, raising an eyebrow.

‘What’s... going on?’ Gavin asked through a yawn.

‘What? Nothing, we just need to get moving. Get your ass into gear, boy.'

‘It’s so early,’ Gavin whined, and Michael laughed.

‘I let you sleep in, stop your bitching.’

At this, Gavin sat up, peering around blearily. ‘You did not!’ he declared. Moments later, he oriented himself and discovered the sun _was_ rather high in the sky, and he looked to Michael and gave him a small ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, “Oh” is fucking right, bitch. Come on, eat up and let’s get cracking,’ Michael ordered, dumping berries in his lap. Gavin looked down at them confusedly before glancing back up at Michael, who was perched on the edge of the log, watching him expectantly.

‘Um…’ Gavin managed.

Michael arched an eyebrow, fingers tapping away impatiently at his leg. ‘Eat. You know, that thing you do with your mouth? Besides suck dick, which I’m sure you do all the time.’

Gavin shook his head. ‘Isn’t this for you?’ 

‘Nah, I already ate, so hurry up.’ Gavin still looked hesitant, and Michael frowned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re fucking allergic or something? They're literally blueberries and blackberries Here.’ Michael rummaged around in his bag and extracted a mushroom. ‘I also got you this.’

Shrugging, Gavin accepted the mushroom and sniffed it hesitantly. ‘Fucking eat!’ Michael yelled, impatience getting the best of him, and Gavin complied, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing with a focused expression. After a moment he pulled a face, but continued to chew anyway. Michael snickered. ‘What, it isn’t quite to your majesty’s expectations?’ He laughed.

Gavin shook his head and swallowed a large portion down. He went to speak but ended up leaning forward and retching loudly.

‘Aw dude, seriously, it can’t be that fucking bad,’ Michael complained.

Gavin finished retching and straightened, but not before giving one final gag. ‘Oh, that was terrible, good God.’ He moaned. ‘Are you trying to poison me?’ he accused weakly, pointing a shaky finger in Michael’s general direction.

Michael snorted. ‘That’d probably be preferable. Although, I don’t blame you for not liking it,' he said, shrugging.

‘It wasn’t the taste that did it for me, I just tried to swallow too much at once.’ Gavin groaned, peering down at the berries suspiciously, ignorant to Michael’s snickers. ‘I have a terrible gag reflex, absolutely horrid,’ he admitted, and he glanced up to see Michael trying to keep a straight face. He paused for a moment before it struck, and he started giggling too. ‘You’re terrible,’ he laughed, and Michael gave up on keeping his laughter in.

‘I guess you must not suck dick all the time, if your gag reflex is that shit,’ Michael said, snickering.

‘Nah. Only once every few days,’ Gavin nodded, and they started laughing again.

‘Oh shit, you’re behind on your quota. Better do something about that,’ Michael sniggered. Gavin snorted around a mouthful of berries. ‘Get suckin’!’ Michael yelled, thrusting crudely with his crotch, and Gavin barely avoided spitting his berries everywhere.

After they calmed down and Gavin managed to eat the rest of his berries with minimal problems, Michael finished packing up the camp and began to untie Gavin.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, and Gavin gave the noncommittal shrug he’d seemed to have adopted in response to everything now. Michael huffed out an annoyed sigh. ‘Dude, if I’m going to go to the trouble of asking, you could at least gimme a damn answer.’

Gavin glanced up at him and shrugged once more, grinning cheekily when Michael took a menacing step towards him. ‘I’m alright,’ he replied, and Michael just sighed.

‘Any better?’ he asked.

Gavin considered it. ‘I dunno. We’ll find out when we get moving, I guess.’

Michael tilted his head in agreement and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s roll, then,’ he declared, and tugged gently on the rope.

By the time they’d reached the small town on the outskirts of Ardinsworth, bought enough food to last them a few days journey and started on their way again, it was storming.

Hard.

‘You know, I’m about one thousand per cent sure the entire universe hates me?’ Michael said conversationally as they trudged through the pouring rain.

‘Oh?’ Gavin asked.

‘Yeah. No, scratch that,’ Michael said as it began bucketing down even harder. ‘Two thousand per cent sure. That’s how damn sure I am.’

‘I don’t hate you,’ Gavin offered.

‘Shut the fuck up. You don’t even count,’ Michael complained.

‘Aw, that’s not very nice, I thought we were-’

‘If you say friends, so help me God,’ Michael threatened, and Gavin used both hands to cover his mouth with a tiny squeak. Michael, used to his antics by now, simply rolled his eyes. ‘I hate you. So much. It’s probably your fault it storms so much.’

‘It _does_ storm a fair bit, I guess.’ Gavin said. ‘Like that one the other day? It rolled up from the bloody headlands?’

‘Oh dude, you’re fucking telling me, you know how close I was to being caught in it? I fucking _ran,_ from where we just walked all the way to fucking Ardinsworth to avoid getting caught in it. Dude, that storm was a bitch!'

‘It was,’ Gavin agreed. ‘I nearly bleeding froze to death.’

Michael looked at him, surprised. ‘You got caught in it?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Gavin chuckled. ‘That was before I hit the forest. I was out in that desert-y bit the entire time, no cover or nothing,’ he admitted.

Michael winced subconsciously. ‘Didn’t it hail?’ he asked, scrunching his face up as he tried to recall. He dimly remembered being awoken by a thunderous noise on the roof, but it hadn’t lasted very long.

‘Mmhm,’ Gavin hummed. ‘A ridiculous amount.’

Michael laughed. ‘Sucks for you, dude. It only hailed a little bit here, and I was scoring a free ride by some nice dude that this hot chick introduced me too. Good times,' he reminisced.

‘Aw, you gunna introduce me to your other friends?’ Gavin teased.

Michael looked at him strangely. ‘You’re fucking weird, dude. We’re not friends,’ he said, for not the first time.

Gavin shrugged. ‘Well in my mind we are, so...’ He stuck his tongue out at Michael. They were quiet, and Michael was thankful, but then, a moment later... ‘Hey Michael?’

Michael gave him a suspicious look. ‘Is this gunna be another stupid question?’ he asked, and Gavin shook his head.

‘No, honest. It’s a legit question,' he said, and Michael pondered whether to take him at his word.

‘It’s not going to be another one of those stupid would you rather questions?’ he clarified.

‘Nup. Just wondering something,’ Gavin confirmed, and Michael finally gave him the go ahead. ‘Have you ever made friends with one of the people you caught?’ he asked, and Michael was about to tell him off before he realised it wasn’t really that bad of a question.

‘Not really. There’s been people I’ve kind of gotten along with mutually, you know, the people who don’t try and kill me, who don’t cause trouble. Who aren’t fucking annoying.’ he tacked onto the end, looking meaningfully at Gavin, who just stuck his tongue out at him again.

‘Have you ever missed any of them?’ Gavin asked.

‘Eugh, what is this, a million questions?’

‘Just answer,’ Gavin whined.

‘Fine. No,' Michael responded curtly.

‘Have you ever kind of felt bad for being the one to hand them in?’ Gavin asked thoughtfully. ‘Like do you wish it could have been someone else?’

‘Nah. If it wasn’t me it’d just be someone else, like you said, so I guess I’m glad I’m the one that gets the money. And it gets money for Geo-’ He cut himself off, wondering whether he should be bothered with what he told Gavin, but figured against it. ‘Geoff, and the other people I work for.’

When he saw Gavin give him a curious look, he sighed but elaborated. ‘I get like eighty per cent of the bounty, and they get twenty. For other people, most people, it can be lower, like sixty-forty, but since Geoff trained me to take over for him when he got promoted kind of, I just get a better cut than most, and get sent to the highest paying bounties.’

‘Am I a high paying bounty?’ Gavin questioned innocently.

‘What? Yeah, dude, you’re one of the higher. That family whose kids you killed? Hella rich. And fuckin' influential, I guess, because you got the surrounding towns to shut the gates down. It’s meant to be an ‘act of allegiance’, but seriously, I think they’re just a rich and important family that everyone’s trying to impress.’

Gavin chewed over the words.

‘Like, way to go dumbass, you killed the three kids of one of the richest people in that town. So yeah, you got yourself a hell high bounty. Most don’t go above say, a hundred and twenty thousand. I think I’ve had a few that sat at a hundred and eighty thousand, and I’ve had one or two at two hundred thousand and over, but unless they’re like, national criminals, then a bounty rarely goes over that.’

‘Who were…’ Gavin started, but he stopped himself.

‘What?’ Michael prompted, but Gavin shook his head.

‘Never mind. So, how long have you been hunting people for?’ he asked.

‘Seriously? Why are you asking me this shit?’ Michael demanded, stopping to adjust his shoe and regain his footing on the treacherous ground. He could barely see a metre in front of them, and the rain was absolutely pouring down, so he was hesitant to continue in this weather. He was afraid though, if he left it, the bridge would go under. He distantly realised he’d missed Gavin’s response.

‘Hang on a sec...' he said, and peered forward. ‘Let’s fuckin'…’ He stopped, trying to remember exactly where they were on the map in his head, before he turned them to the left. ‘There’s a forest that way we can take some semblance of cover in, for now. I don’t want to cross the bridge when it’s this fucking stormy.’

‘Aww, little Mikey Wikey scared?’ Gavin teased, obeying him as he was tugged gently along by the rope.

‘Don’t ever call me that again, I will rip your dick off. Also, no I’m not scared; I just don’t have a fucking death wish. Now shut up and let’s go.’ 

Gavin completely ignored his command to shut up, instead choosing to ask another question, allowing the other one to go unanswered for now. ‘How’d you get into bounty hunting?’ he asked.

Michael sighed. ‘Fucking Geoff. You seriously want to know my life story?’ he asked flatly, but he could make out Gavin’s enthusiastic nod. ‘Asshole,' he said, but found himself telling him anyway.

‘My parents died when I was little, blah blah, all that sob story. Geoff and his wife took me in, kind of, raised me to do what they did, partly so I could protect myself in case anything happened again and partly so I could take over from Geoff when I got older. I hit eighteen, joined the business properly, and been hunting ever since.’

He didn’t look to see Gavin’s reaction, curious though he may have been. Most people, once informed of his history, were generally more cautious and very... sympathetic.

Fuck, Michael hated sympathetic.

But he didn't peg Gavin as the kind of guy to feed him that. Honestly, the man had _no_ brain to mouth filter _whatsoever._ He credited him with the lack of ability to limit his words, and right now that was exactly what Michael wanted. So it was with mild wariness but great confidence that he glanced over to gauge the other man's reaction.

‘That’s pretty cool,’ Gavin said, and Michael gave himself a small smirk. ‘Like, don’t get me wrong,’ he said, assuming Michael was offended, ‘I just mean like, you kind of got raised to kick ass. You’re like a ninja.’ He laughed.

Michael rolled his eyes, regardless that Gavin couldn’t see. ‘I got raised to protect myself, you fucking idiot. And seriously, you’re comparing me to a ninja?’ 

‘Yeah!’ Gavin enthused. ‘You’re always so quiet, so stealthy. Like, I never even heard you coming!’ he cried, referring to when Michael had originally captured him. Michael barked out a laugh.

‘Dude, you are the most oblivious, idiotic piece of shit I’ve ever known. You wouldn’t have heard a fucking bear coming up behind you.’

Gavin looked vaguely offended. ‘That’s bollocks. I’d have heard that! I could hear anyone! Just… not you,' he said sheepishly.

‘Right,’ Michael said, trying to infuse as much sarcasm as possible into that one word. They’d arrived at the edge of the forest some time ago, and had been trudging deeper into it, searching futilely for some protection from the thick canopy above them.

‘We there yet?’ Gavin whined, and Michael turned to smack him on the back of the head. ‘Oww,' he whined, trying to rub the offended spot, but found he couldn’t due to how he was restrained. Michael just laughed at him, earning him a glare, before he turned to admire the base of a particularly thick tree.

‘I’m not going to lie, it’s way too late to try and set up a shelter and I don’t know where any goddamn caves are so I’m sorry, but we’re sleeping soaked tonight,' he said, and Gavin let out a pitiful groan. ‘Don’t worry, I kept the pack dry, and I can shove it under here, so we’ll have a dry set of clothes in the morning.’

‘This sucks!’ Gavin whined. Michael quickly tied the end of his rope around a tree trunk that kept him undercover but nearby. 

‘Not as bad as the desert hail though, right?’ he said, and Gavin shrugged.

‘I guess,' he admitted, before he smiled toothily. ‘Look, we swapped!’ When Michael looked at him questioningly, he continued, ‘I’m the complainy one, and you’re the cheerer upperer!’ 

‘I’m not afraid to beat the shit out of you again,' Michael said immediately.

‘Aw, but you promised,’ Gavin whined at him.

‘I did _no_ such thing,’ Michael countered, and settled down further. ‘Now shut up and go to sleep.’ 

‘How come every time you tell me to do something you always tell me to shut up first?’ Gavin asked.

‘Because you’re always fucking talking. Now shut up and sleep.’ Michael repeated. Gavin huffed at him, barely audible over the sound of the rain hitting the leaves, and tried to settle down too.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief animal murder, nothing detailed.
> 
> (edit) I digress, I'm uploading the last ever chapter/s of my other fic tomorrow *ugly crying* and you guys should go look at it cos that fic's my baby and i've loved it forever.  
> anyway, 
> 
> Read & review, yo

When they awoke in the morning the rain had cleared, leaving only the occasional drip from the leaves up above and a few rays of sun trying diligently to break through.

Michael rolled over to look at Gavin, who was still soaked and shivering in his sleep, before he stood and shook his hair. He recoiled at the feeling of leaves and twigs flying free and cringed even further at the though of how he probably looked right now.

God, he felt disgusting. He longed for a shower.

But since that wasn’t an option, he instead nudged Gavin with his foot, effectively rousing the sleeping man. ‘Wot?’ Gavin mumbled sleepily, accent coming across tenfold in his drowsy state.

‘I’m going hunting,’ Michael informed him.

‘Wh… Huh?’ Gavin grunted, rubbing at his eyes and going to sit up slightly before wincing and dropping back down, splaying across the still wet grass with a groan.

‘ _Hunting_ ,’ Michael drew out. ‘Hunting. H-u-n-t-i--’

‘Alright, alright, I get it. Bugger off then,’ Gavin grunted, and rolled back over to sleep.

Michael smirked. Who knew he’d be such a morning person? He flicked his still damp curls out of his face and picked up his bow and arrow, deciding on it after a moment of deliberation as his primary hunting weapon. It’d be a lot easier than trying to get up close and personal to use his sword, and he might need the practice.

All in all it couldn’t hurt, so he silently made his way further from their small set up, body on edge for any sign of movement large enough to be something worth hunting. Surprisingly, unlike many other times like this, he didn’t have to wait long, instead being graced with the sound of rustling overhead not long into his journey.

He had his bow up, arrow in place and aiming at the creature before he even catalogued what it was, and he wasn’t disappointed to see a small land mammal - a squirrel, he noted automatically - scurrying up the branches.

Holding his breath, he adjusted the weapon and peered through the sight, waiting for the animal to slow down or stop long enough for him to fire a shot off. It continued off the edge of the branch it was on, jumping to another, making a small squeaking noise. It stopped, sniffing the air, and turned its head in Michael’s direction just in time to be impaled with an arrow and fall several metres to the forest floor.

‘ _Level up._ '

Michael snickered in celebration, picking his way over to the body. He picked it up by the tail, not even pulling a face when he drew out his dagger and slit its throat, holding it upside down to bleed as he casually placed his bow and arrow back over his shoulders and made his return.

It took even less time than the journey there, as he didn’t need to be silent or wary of scaring off any potential meals, and he was feeling quite proud of himself for getting the kill first shot and within so little time. He arrived with a smug smirk and an even jauntier stance, humming to himself as he came into view of Gavin’s still sleeping form

After quickly appraising the area and being satisfied with the results, Michael grabbed a nearby hanging vine and quickly cut it, using it as a rope to tie the animal’s body to a branch, securing it deftly and leaving it upside down to continue to bleed out.

‘Gavin,’ he called, nudging the man with his foot again.

‘I’m awake,’ Gavin mumbled, eyes closed and face still pressed into the ground. ‘Michael?’ 

‘Yeah?’ the man in question responded. ‘What do you want?’

‘How come you went hunting now, but we just bought food from the shop?’ Gavin asked, words slurring together, tiredness seeping into his tone.

‘Because, idiot, if you didn’t notice, we didn’t get anything protein packed - mostly nonperishables. Our main goal can be to survive off the land now, to avoid you showing your dumb fuckin' face. Did you even pay attention to what we bought?’ Michael asked, exasperation evident in the curl of his lip. 

Gavin gave a shrug. ‘I didn’t look up,’ he mumbled petulantly, and Michael pulled a face.

‘I guess that’s good. We didn’t get in a fight, I guess, which seems to be something that would be considered an achievement in your books.' 

Gavin didn't respond, so Michael stretched one foot out and nudged him.

‘Asshole. Get up,' he ordered, then jabbed a finger towards the hanging animal. 'You know how to skin stuff?’ he asked, and at that, Gavin struggled into an upright position, face scrunching with pain.

‘Yeah, but I don’t like it.’ 

‘ _Too fucking bad_. I caught it, you prepare it.’ 

‘What are we, married?’ Gavin sighed.

Michael frowned. ‘You look all grumpy. What’s up your ass?’

Gavin glanced up at him. ‘Nothin', just sore,' he admitted, rubbing at his bandaged ribs.

‘Ah.’ Michael clicked his tongue awkwardly. ‘Right.’

He scratched uncomfortably at the back of his neck, then grabbed his pack from its spot sheltered in the tree. Avoiding Gavin's eye, he drew out a spare change of clothes and threw them in his general direction, before pulling out his own.

He ducked around a tree and changed quickly, emerging moments later with his dirty clothes in hand. He cracked his neck, wondering if it’d be worth throwing them out, when he realised Gavin hadn’t moved.

‘Dude, are you dying on me?’ he asked, but concern laced his voice and Gavin smiled at him.

‘Nah.'

'Really.' Michael's tone was flat.

'Really. Just lazy,’ Gavin admitted, winking.

Michael's stare was unrelenting and as flat as his tone, but Gavin smiled brightly at him.

‘Asshole,’ Michael muttered, when it became obvious he wasn't going to win.

Gavin snickered. ‘Why? Did I scare you, my little Michael?’ he teased, batting his eyelashes up at him.

‘Eugh, dude, the pet names. You’re destroying my masculinity bit by bit.’ Michael shook his head and turned away, hiding the smile that threatened to break out over his face. ‘Now get dressed,' he ordered, and began building up a fire, ‘Because once you're done, and we're finished cooking the shit out of this bitch, it's time to eat.’

‘Gunna have us a good old fashioned B.B.Q, lad!’ Gavin cheered, and Michael turned to him with a withering glare.

‘Really? You couldn’t just say barbeque? You had to spell out each _individual_ letter?’ he asked, wondering why he was even surprised.

Gavin nodded enthusiastically. ‘It adds to the excitement,' he whispered conspiratorially, and Michael groaned.

‘Sometimes I wish I could just glue your mouth shut,' he admitted, working on the fire impatiently. When it refused to defy physics and magically grow into a beautiful, roasting fire, Michael grew impatient. ‘Come on!’ he urged.

‘Yelling at it won’t help, Michael.’ Gavin said in a lecturing tone.

‘Yeah but yelling at you might, so shut the fuck up. I’d like to see you do better.' He paused, eyes raised to the skies in thought. 'Actually, I saw your pathetic attempt at building a fire that night. I nearly pissed myself laughing. You’re hopeless,' he snickered, eyes scrunching in amusement. 

‘What! That’s utter bollocks, I did well that night!’ Gavin defended, but it only succeeded in making Michael laugh even harder.

‘Dude, if that’s your idea of doing well, I’d hate to see you on a bad night.’ He cried, almost destroying the fire he’d almost created due to his hands shaking from laughing so hard. ‘I honestly wouldn’t be surprised. You suck at everything.’ He said.

‘That’s not very nice,’ Gavin chastised. ‘You should say sorry.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ Michael said, trying to pull a straight face. ‘I’m sorry you suck so fucking bad,’ he burst out, collapsing into laughter once more. ‘You’re fucking lucky I got that fire going, I swear to God if you’d made me fuck it up…’ he giggled, and there was no threat behind it.

After a few moments, he collapsed onto the ground in front of the fire, but not before laying out some makeshift bedding in front of it. ‘I’m fucked,' he groaned. ‘Gavin, be a good slave and make me my breakfast.' He waved a feeble hand in the direction of the pack.

‘I’ll get right onto that, then,’ Gavin said sarcastically, tugging his tied hands for emphasis.

‘Good boy.’ Michael snorted to himself before he dragged himself back up into a sitting position. ‘Eugh. Pull your pants on, and I’ll untie you and you can put your shirt on in a minute.’

He didn't even glance at him, instead directing his gaze to see how breakfast was faring.

Not too badly, by the looks of it. The blood flow had thinned to a slow trickle, so it wasn't far off ready. Unlike Gavin, who seemed to be taking forever.

‘You good?’ he called back over his shoulder, and he heard a grunt, so he turned back around to see Gavin wriggling awkwardly into his pants. Michael gave a snicker at the sight and approached him. ‘Hands,' he commanded, and Gavin obediently put his hands forward.

As soon as Michael undid them Gavin pulled them inwards, and despite his training and experience Michael didn’t feel any caution.

What a new and surprising development. Michael snorted to himself.

‘Bout time,’ Gavin said cheerily, rubbing his sore wrists and wincing.

Michael rolled his eyes. ' Shut up and put your shirt on.’ 

‘See, again with the shut up then order thing. That’s a terrible habit.’ 

‘Are you going to fucking lecture me every time, or are you going to hurry up and get dressed?’ Michael demanded, and sat back down where he’d previously been seated, remaining dignified for a split second before he lay down onto his back, expecting Gavin to obey him.

Gavin, however, had the misfortune of being  _Gavin_ , so instead of doing what he was told, he grinned cheekily at him. ‘Why do that when I can do this?’ he challenged, and flopped dramatically face first onto the bedding.

Michael groaned. ‘You did _not_ just do that.’ 

‘You know, there was a time where if I’d done that, you’d be over here and beating the shit out of me,’ Gavin pointed out, far more cheerily than Michael deemed necessary. He was clearly enjoying his temporary freedom.

‘Don’t you worry, I’m going to be over there beating the shit out of you in a second,’ Michael warned, moving to get up.

Seconds before he could, something stopped him.

His mind registered the hissing before his body did, and he automatically froze, sensing out find out to how far it was from him and what direction it was coming from. He’d barely sensed it, distracted by Gavin and it was on him, slithering onto his bedding carelessly.

He took a shuddering breath in through his nose.

_Fuck, he hated snakes._

He knew Gavin had seen it when he heard nothing but silence from his direction, but Michael didn’t dare look away from the snake currently sliding its way onto his legs.

‘Aren’t they meant to be more afraid of us than we are of them?’

He heard Gavin’s terrified squeak from behind him, and his mind dimly realised that he could be using this time to escape. He was fucking untied, for God’s sake, and Michael had a god damn _snake_ on his chest. His mind quickly flitted through what he knew about safe snakes and unsafe snakes. From his few and far between encounters, he only knew one type of snake that was safe, and it was always green.

This snake was definitely _not green._ It was an alarming shade of brown.

‘Stay still, Michael,' he heard Gavin whisper, and his eyes darted from the head making its way closer to his to the sight of Gavin, still shirtless, own eyes wide with fear (for Michael?) as he approached as quietly as he could.

‘Don’t fucking touch it,’ Michael hissed, voice strained from the fear racing its way up his spine and the effort it took to not scream it at him. ‘If it bites me I swear to _God-_ ’

But he trailed off as the snake raised its head and hissed, tongue snaking out and revealing to glistening fangs, and Michael swallowed hard.

‘I’m gunna get it off you, Michael,’ Gavin whispered, and Michael barely had time to open his mouth to warn him away when he sprung forward, hands latching onto the tail of the snake. That was all Michael registered before a searing heat started in his chest, just above his heart, and he was cursing, raising a hand to the area to see it come away slick with blood.

He didn’t see Gavin throw the snake onto the ground and crush its head beneath his boot, but he did see the man’s face duck into his line of sight, eyes wide and apologies tumbling from his lips.

‘I’m so sorry, shit, I’m sorry, it’s dead now,’ he was saying, and Michael focused blurrily on him. He knew it was unrealistic that the poison was already affecting him, but panic was setting in, and he was desperately trying to prevent his heart from pumping the venom around his body any faster than it already was.

He was trying to figure out a course of action when he felt his shirt being lifted over his head and Gavin was ducking down, lips against his chest as he sucked painfully hard, drawing out the mix of blood and venom from the wound and spitting it out. In an instant he was back at the wound, drawing another mouthful of blood out. Michael distantly heard him gag, but he was spitting it back out and returning to his chest again a second later, movements hurried as he aimed to remove the poison from Michael’s body as quickly as he could.

Each motion caused the pain in Michael’s chest to worsen, but he knew better than to fight against him, knowing that every mouthful he spat out was another mouthful out of his body, another mouthful less poisoning him.

So he remained, at the mercy of a multi murderer, with venom coursing through his veins.

It seemed like an eternity later that Gavin slowed down, his movements becoming less frantic as he began tasting less and less of the venom mixed in with the blood.

Finally, he pulled away, spitting a last mouthful out to the side, and collapsed on top of Michael, his chest heaving from exertion as he panted for breath. Michael looked down, wondering when exactly his hand had gotten tangled in Gavin’s hair, when Gavin looked up, his jaw still pressed into Michael’s chest.

Their eyes met and there was a moment where they both froze, but it was broken when Gavin lunged up, using his position to close the final bit of space between them and press his lips to Michael’s.


	16. Chapter 16

For a moment Michael could feel nothing but the sweet heat of Gavin, but when he felt a small lick against his bottom lip he opened his mouth compliantly, tongue brushing against Gavin’s and leaving a burning trail. Gavin tasted of metallic blood and not much else, but they remained like that, growing more confident as seconds passed and neither of them reacted.

Michael reached up and pulled Gavin flush against him, crotches grinding as they pressed painfully hard against each other, hot skin meeting where their chests lay bare. Michael subconsciously tightened his grip around the other man’s waist and Gavin reached his hand up to cup Michael's face, thumb grazing his jaw line before he felt two strong hands on his chest and he was being pushed, flying back until he hit the dirt.

His eyes flew open and he was on his feet quickly, backing away from Michael fast in hopes of avoiding being hurt. When his back was to a tree he finally met Michael's gaze, entire body tense and hot with regret, fear and a painful amount of humiliation.

Michael's eyes were narrowed, his lip curled in anger and he was talking, saying things Gavin didn't want to hear but his treacherous ears betrayed him, tuning in on words he knew would rip him apart.

‘Are you fucking listening?’ Michael demanded, when Gavin didn't respond. Gavin gave a weak nod, but Michael ignored it, gesturing wildly with his hands before finally resettling his gaze on the other man. ‘What the _fuck_ just happened?’ he issed. ‘You just fucking _kissed me_ , and-’

He sensed that Gavin was beginning to tune out, lose himself in whatever he was feeling, so he reached out and gripped his injured wrists.

Gavin swallowed a cry of pain and lifted his head to meet Michael’s eyes defiantly, but he was surprised to see that when he did, Michael pulled back, releasing his wrists abruptly.

Slowly, Gavin rubbed at them, not taking his eyes from Michael's face as emotions danced across it. Confusion, hesitance, then finally bewilderment, but he didn't lost the shine of guilt in his eyes.

‘Are you- _crying?_ ’ he finally managed, articulating his confusion.

Gavin forced the prickling hotness in his vision back, lower lip trembling with the effort. He realised he needed to respond before he worsened the situation, but every potential thing he could think of hurt. ‘You kissed me back,' he finally spat, jaw jutted and shoulders straight. 

Michael looked shocked, pulling further back.

‘You kissed me back,’ Gavin repeated, and Michael’s face tightened with anger before falling completely, the energy seeming to drain from him.

Gavin was slow in crawling back to his feet, injured wrist cradled in his other hand, eyes focused on the other man.

Michael gripped his head in his hands and silence reigned for a few moments before he spoke up. ‘I just- I fucking lost it, alright? For a second there? I just… I don’t know. I didn’t fucking expect it.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Look, I get that you’re a fucking guy and you have needs but taking it out on me is a one way ticket to a broken face.’

When he said nothing more, Gavin stared at him for several long seconds, but his silence seemed to antagonise Michael so he began searching for the words. He barely began to speak before Michael interrupted him.

‘Hear me out,' he demanded, and he missed Gavin's flinch. 'Whatever just happened -- _what_ just happened -- I get it, and I’m going to forgive you because fuck, I’ve done spur of the moment shit too, so I’m not an asshole who doesn’t understand mistakes.’

Gavin shook his head slowly. ‘It wasn’t-’

‘And I don’t really care that you cried, alright, you probably landed hard, whatever. Embarrassment. I don’t know. I don’t care.’

‘I-’                                                                                                                                                                                                  

‘So let’s forget that ever fucking happened. This isn’t fucking Brokeback Mountain, but I fucking understand, alright? You made a mistake. I know that doesn’t mean--'

 

He cut himself off abruptly, shaking his head with a force that was almost vicious, and Gavin wanted to ask him what he was going to say, wanted to plead for him to continue. But Michael avoided his eyes, swallowing down the rest of his sentence, and shook his head once more.

'So like I said, let’s just fucking move on.’

Gavin stared at him. And stared at him. And stared at him some more.

Did he really not see? Did he really have _no_ idea, or was this all to make him feel better?

‘Okay,’ Gavin murmured, at a loss for anything else.

Michael reached out a hand for Gavin to shake, smiling slightly at him. ‘I forgive you,’ Michael said, and Gavin dredged up energy he didn’t know he had to force a smile onto his face and shake his hand back.

No, he realised.

Michael didn’t see at all.

* * *

 

Two long days later, they'd barely began to regain some of the companionship they'd forged. 

That morning, after what felt like an eternity of painful, awkward silence, they'd eaten the breakfast they'd so excitedly planned with a dull lack of emotion and begun packing up camp. Despite Michael's clear desire to push aside all memory of the incident from that morning, Gavin seemed fixated on it, at least internally. For the first day, he'd refused to look at Michael, and the bounty hunter had known why.

It was hard to ignore such a sudden change in their dynamic, especially after something like that.

But he did his best, and as far as Gavin was concerned, Michael was over it. And the  _fake it until you make it_ mentality he'd adopted had finally come through for him, because for a while, that incident was able to be pushed from his mind, and he'd resumed somewhat normal communication with Gavin. The last day hadn't seemed terrible at the time, except Michael's mood was souring severely and everything seemed like hell.

It was confusing, annoying, and Michael was fed up. And that didn’t even begin to cover his annoyance to the bridge.

_That fucking bridge._

When they’d packed up and made off, exiting the woods at roughly the same spot they’d entered and walked to the river bank, Michael had been decidedly confused at the lack of bridge and the weird looking poles jutting out of each side of the bank until he realised – those poles? All that was what was left of the bridge.

The rain of last night had been the final straw in the dam upstream, overflowing it and causing it to break, releasing a torrential flood that had wiped every farm along the way and oh, not to mention, the fucking bridge.

So he’d stormed wordlessly up and down with Gavin in tow until he’d found a local, who, much to their annoyance, Michael had vigorously questioned until they’d informed him that  _no,_  they couldn’t fix the bridge overnight,  _no,_ repairs wouldn’t start for a week and even when they did some assfuck had made the executive decision to start construction on a new iron bridge, which would take an indiscernible amount of time.

So they’d gone round. Or rather, they were making their way down. Realistically, they’d been travelling for a whopping two days.

Was it two days?

He couldn’t really remember. Jesus, his head hurt.

Funnily enough, he couldn't seem to focus on anything. His thoughts were wilder than normal, less controllable, but also heavy. Like they were being weighed down in a bog, and he had to push through thick mud just to get a hold on them.

And he was  _hot_. He was tired, irritable, and snappy, but more than anything, he was hot. 

Which was funny, because only earlier, he'd been freezing, and next to him Gavin had been puffing away and dripping sweat like they were in a jungle. But it wasn't something Michael focused on, because he had bigger issues with Gavin. 

At the moment, it was getting him to keep quiet. Every word seemed to aggravate the growing headache Michael was harbouring, but he was too tired to express his irritation to its complete extent, and Gavin just kept on talking.

Finally, Michael gave up on walking, and pointed to a very specific tree.

Gavin stared blankly at it. 

'Nice tree,' he finally commented, when Michael looked at him expectantly. 

The auburn haired man closed his eyes as if he was in pain. 'Set up camp,' he managed, voice raspy and dry. It was punctuated by another swig from his water bottle.

‘Why are we camping here?’ Gavin cocked his head at him, then up at the sky, where the sun had only just set behind the trees.

‘Because I said so. Sit down and just... don't.’ 

That was all the reply Gavin got, and they fell into silence for several long moments; Michael leant against the tree and put his head in his hands, letting exhaustion temporarily overcome his defences. He felt like they'd been travelling forever, days blurring into the rest, but when he caught himself and collected his thoughts, if he tried enough, he could separate the distinctive markers.

They’d walked through beating sun and then through... what was it… some small side river they’d had to cross through in the middle of the goddamn night. It’d been another day since then and now it was nightfall again, and Michael couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so grateful to rest.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so dog tired, but exhaustion seemed to be overtaking his weary body and despite how numb he felt, even his bones seemed to hurt. And Gavin deciding now he’d start talking again, asking questions and shit, wasn’t helping either.

Without a second thought, he dumped his pack on the ground and turned back around to see Gavin still looking at him, awaiting a proper response. Michael stared at him, uncomprehending, for several long moments, before he realised what Gavin was waiting for.

‘Because...' he began, then lost his train of thought, and it took him several seconds to find it again.'Because we’re going through land tomorrow that’s gunna be swamped, courtesy of the… the fucking rain before.’

‘So?’ Gavin asked, still not seeing the point.

‘So unless you want to walk through that in the middle of the night,' Michael started aggressively, 'then I suggest you sit down, _like I said_ , you piece of shit, and shut up.’

Gavin ignored the annoyance in Michael’s tone and obeyed, plonking himself down in front of a tree. ‘Is it going to be gross?’ he asked, and Michael gave him a look that oozed frustration.

‘Yes. Shut up.’

Gavin pursed his lips in consideration. ‘Where abouts is it?’ he questioned.

It was several seconds before Michael answered, and Gavin had to call his name first, waiting until Michael focused on him. He looked dazed, and he swallowed several times, reaching for his water and swigging before he answered.

‘Not far from here,' he finally said, and it was more of a croak.

‘How long would they take to get through?’ Gavin asked, automatically firing off the question while he looked at him in concern.

‘Less than a quarter day. Please, Gavin, be quiet _.’_ Michael said.

Gavin sighed and gave in, but opened his mouth again a moment later. ‘Why do you want me to be quiet?’ he asked, but he lowered his voice considerably. It wasn’t often Michael legitimately wanted him to shut up, but the sheer amount of times he’d requested it since they started talking led Gavin to believe he wasn’t fooling around.

‘Honestly? I have a fucking splitting headache, and I feel like death. So please, for the love of all that is good and holy, just _be quiet.’_ He stressed the last part considerably, and taking pity on him, Gavin obeyed.

Michael gave him a grateful look and took a seat against his own tree, sighing loudly (and wincing at it) when he realised he’d have to get up to build the fire.

‘I can build it,’ Gavin suggested, apparently a mind reader now (or maybe not _that bad_ at reading people) and Michael turned to yell at him before he realised what he said.

‘No, I’ve got it,' he said, and hauled himself up.

‘Are you sure?’ Gavin asked quietly.

Michael nodded before he realised he had yet to tie Gavin to the tree.

‘I don’t understand you,' Michael muttered, picking up the rope and tying it around the tree. ‘I want to stop saying you should be taking these opportunities to run away, because you actually might do it someday, but I seriously don’t fucking understand why you don’t.’ He frowned, turning back to the fire. ‘I’ve never given someone so many opportunities before. I’m getting sloppy.’

He smiled weakly, but it was quickly replaced by the look of pain that flashed across his features.

‘Do you trust me?’ Gavin asked, then blinked at himself. Immediately, he tensed, and turned his wide eyes to Michael, but the hunter didn't look infuriated. 

Instead, Michael just sighed and sat down, giving up on the fire before he even started, cradling his throbbing head in his hands. ‘I don’t want to, but sometimes I don’t think I have a choice,’ he admitted.

After a moment of wonder at the fact that he'd gotten a real answer, Gavin jumped at the chance. ‘What do you mean?’ he prodded, but Michael didn't answer again, lapsing into silence once more.

This time, Gavin was concerned. A lot of factors over the past day were adding up to tell him something wasn't right, and one look at Michael seemed to only confirm his suspicions. He briefly wondered why he hadn't seen it earlier, but shoved the thought aside. He knew the answer. He knew it had been because he'd been trying his best to avoid catching Michael's eye.

'Are you okay?' he finally edged, and Michael gave him a sarcastic thumbs up. Gavin didn't laugh. ‘Are you getting sick?’ he finally asked, and Michael hesitated. 

'Maybe,' he said, and it looked like he was going to say something more, but before he got the chance he exploded into a fit of coughing, a horrible noise, painful and rattling. Gavin pretended he didn't flinch from it as Michael got his breath back and looked at him again, tried to ignore how terrible it sounded; too full of sickness, too full of coffins.

Instead, Gavin narrowed his eyes and tried to think. 'You've been a right mong all day,' he said, but it sounded like he was thinking aloud, not insulting him, so Michael took the moment to settle back against the tree in the position he'd been in and let his eyes drift shut. 

Gavin watched him, and  he tried to remember.

‘The crossing we swum through the other night?’ he considered. 'Or the sun. You were bloody sweating up a storm then.'

'Mmm.' Michael didn't bother opening his eyes, and Gavin chewed his lip. He really looked bad - pale, sweaty and distant, unfocused.

‘Come here,' he finally prompted, and Michael looked up at him tiredly.

‘What?’ he asked, and Gavin's frown deepened. 

‘Come here. Lemme see how hot you are,' he said.

 

After a long, long moment of deliberation, Michael crawled to his feet, with far less energy than he'd even had earlier. Sure, Gavin had seen him slowing down around midday, and he'd begun stumbling about mid afternoon, but he'd chalked it up to poor concentration. 

When Gavin pressed his icy hands against Michael’s burning forehead, and Michael leaned into it with a moan, the foreign man knew differently.

‘Jesus Michael. You’re burning up,' Gavin whispered, almost shocked at how much heat radiated from the freckled man in front of him.

As if the sound of his voice had jolted him into consciousness, Michael shook himself and stepped away from the bound man.

‘I’m fine,' he insisted. ‘Just a little… a little sick.’ 

‘Untie me,' Gavin urged, when Michael moved to turn away. 'Michael, hang on, would you? Don't bloody settle in -- you're obviously not right, what are you doing?'

Michael proceeded to ignore him, waving a hand limply in his direction. Gavin made a noise of frustration. 

'Just loosen the ropes, would you? Don't want you dying on me,' he tried, but the joke fell flat - or on deaf ears, because Michael didn't even glance his way before he settled himself against the tree opposite him.

It took a few seconds for Gavin to see what was wrong with the situation, and it hit him that it was because he  _couldn't_ \- there was little light at all, the moonlight filtering weakly through the trees not enough to illuminate anything.

And there was no fire.

Michael was settling in for the night on the cold, damp ground, with no fire.

Gavin's stomach dropped, and it took him a moment to push aside his sudden stab of panic and formulate words.

'Michael, the fire,' he started, licking his lips nervously, and he glanced at the ground between them, then back at Michael again, who didn't react.

' _Michael,_ ' he repeated, and this time his nervousness crept into his voice, 'Let me make the fire.’

Michael shook his head, mumbled something quietly that Gavin was sure he had misheard. After several seconds, his eyes widened, and Michael's words echoed in his mind.

_‘It’s too hot anyway.'_

‘No, Michael- Michael, no,' he started, and when the man didn’t move he called again, voice raising an octave. ‘You need to put the fire on,' he said firmly, and got a groan in return. ‘Michael? Listen to me.’

Something, maybe the uncharacteristic seriousness of his voice, maybe the way he was repeating his name, made the other man lift his head and peer blurrily at him through his glasses.

Gavin swallowed. ‘I know you’re feeling hot, but that’s only the sickness. I think you’re feverish,' he said nervously, and Michael looked at him with, waiting for him to get on with it. ‘You really need to get that fire started, because we could freeze to death otherwise. It’s cold, Michael. You’re just burning up.’

For a moment it looked like Michael was going to argue, but he shook his head weakly to clear his thoughts and nodded in Gavin’s direction as he crawled labouriously to his feet. ‘Right. The sick. It’s the sick,' he repeated, and began gathering material to make a fire.

Gavin frowned, unnerved by how little sense he made, but focused on something else. ‘You should let me do it,' he said, and Michael shook his head.

‘No, I gotta.’ He blinked rapidly, trying to build up a flame with the items in his shaking hands.

‘Michael--’ Gavin started.

Michael cut him off with a half-hearted glare . ‘I’ve got it,' he said, focusing on it, and ignored all other attempts Gavin made to get his attention.

It took him a long time, longer than Gavin had ever seen, and by the end of it he looked ready to cry from frustration. But finally, a small flame sparked, and Michael pulled away.

‘Got it,' he said, and crawled backwards, away from the fire.

Gavin's eyes shot to ‘Michael, you need to untie me, you-' and that was the last thing Michael heard before he passed out, head falling onto the grass with a soft thump.

‘Michael!’ Gavin called, torn between watching the tiny flame with a nervous eye, begging it to not go out, and staring desperately at Michael's still form next to the fire. With Michael unconscious and him tied up, if anything happened, there’d be nothing Gavin could do.

‘Michael!’ he called again, because he couldn’t _not_ do anything, but the man didn’t even stir. At least Gavin could see his face from this position, and he supposed that was somewhat useful. Chewing his lip in worry, Gavin forced himself to relax back against the tree, tugging at his ropes to make sure they were as secure as they felt.

Michael was always strict about how he tied it when he did, so Gavin knew it was pretty hopeless to bank on them being loose, and he wasn’t surprised to find them holding as tight as ever.

Sighing, he leaned back again, relieved at least to see the fire was catching properly. He settled in to wait.

It was only a little while later that Gavin was jerked out of his thoughts by Michael shifting and mumbling something.

‘Michael?’ he tried, but he didn’t receive a response. ‘Michael, wake up!’

He could see Michael’s face twitch and draw down into a frown, but after a moment it dropped and his face was blank once more. ‘Michael, wake up,' he said again, but didn’t earn a response.

‘Shit,' he swore quietly. He was worried for the other man. He only hoped he was close enough to the fire to keep warm, but not too close to overheat. He knew they were both very likely possibilities, and Gavin was helpless to either of them.

If only he could get free, escape somehow. If only Michel had untied him first. If only he’d tied him looser. If only he wasn’t sick.

But it was useless thinking about the if only’s, because the if only’s were as boundless as the stars.

Not long after that, his attention was again drawn to the curly haired man at the sound of retching. Gavin stared, open mouthed, as Michael’s body curled in on itself.

Then he retched, long and drawn out, still unconscious.

After a few moments, it began to wake him, because midway through he moaned and blinked his eyes open just in time to throw up. Out of pure survival instinct he tipped his head to the side, spewing even as he weakly pushed himself into something resembling a sitting position.

He moaned and forced his eyes open, focusing on Gavin’s blurry form metres away.

‘Gavin?’ he asked.

Gavin's heart shot into his throat. ‘ _Yes!_ Michael, you have to untie me!’ he cried, relief flooding through him.

Michael frowned up at him. ‘What’re you doing up there?’ he asked.

Gavin froze. 'Michael?'

'Weird place to be,' he murmured, and then he passed out again.

It was probably by pure luck that he collapsed on his side, because the next time he threw up he didn’t wake up at all. It was disgusting, scary and all around horrible to see, because Gavin could do nothing but struggle desperately against his bonds and yell Michael’s name until his voice got hoarse. He was panicking, terrified the other man would die soon, from either the cold or asphyxiation, and he’d still be stuck, immobile and useless.

‘Fuck!’ he yelled, straining desperately against the ropes, begging for them to snap. When they didn’t, he took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down, and tried to take solace in the fact Michael wasn’t throwing up anymore, and Gavin could see the uneven rise and fall of his chest, emphasised by heavy, rattly breaths.

Making sure his panic had subsided, Gavin tugged systematically at the ropes, testing each part and searching for a weak point. When he found none he tried again to slip his hands through, and soon his wrists were bleeding again, rubbed raw from his futile attempts to pull them through.

He nearly cried with frustration when he heard Michael start mumbling again, to no-one in particular, the fever ravishing his body making him see things that weren’t there. Gavin tuned out his mumblings, focusing more on the fact that the man was still alive, until he heard his name mentioned and he felt hope surge within him.

‘Michael?’ he called gently, hoping the other man was awakening.

‘Gavin,’ Michael mumbled in response, his head moving back and forth.

‘Michael, it’s me,’ Gavin said, trying to keep his voice level.

‘Gavin?’ 

‘Yeah, Michael. Come on, open your eyes. Come on,’ Gavin urged, crossing his fingers as he saw Michael move again.

‘It’s real hot, Gavin,’ Michael said weakly.

Gavin swallowed hard. ‘I know. I can make the hotness go away if you just open your eyes and untie me.’ 

‘It's so hot,’ Michael whimpered, and he sounded almost… scared?

‘I know,' Gavin repeated, 'I can fix that, you just have to untie me.’ When Michael didn’t respond he threw his head back in frustration. ‘Michael! Wake up!’ he yelled, but it was too late, and the man was unconscious again, sweat running in thin rivulets down his forehead.

He kept Gavin awake through the night, mumbling and crying out occasionally; sometimes lapsing into silence for so long that Gavin was scared he was dead. The relief that flooded through Gavin every time it started was combated by the annoyance that it didn't mean he was awake, and it was crushing to get his hopes up only to have them torn so painfully down.

Michael was good at that, really. Even when he was unconscious.

It was a long night and the sun was a few hours from rising when Michael’s mumblings started up once more, but this time he seemed more coherent. Gavin perked up again, half-heartedly calling out to him without much expectation of a response.

‘Gavin,’ he heard, and his eyes widened when he saw Michael pull himself into a sitting position, the most movement he’d seen all night.

‘Michael! You have to untie me!’ Gavin pleaded, the words having lost some of their meaning from the sheer amount of times he’d repeated them, but this time they garnered a reaction from the hunter.

‘Can’t untie you… ‘sbad,' he murmured, and Gavin shook his head wildly.

‘No, _no_ it’s _not_. Michael, you’re really sick, you hear me? _Really_ sick,' Gavin repeated, hoping it’d come through to the other man.

‘I’m sick. Tired,’ Michael agreed, eyes fluttering shut, but they opened again when he heard Gavin yell his name.

‘No, _don't-- y_ ou have to untie me,' he pleaded, voice hitching slightly at the prospect of Michael passing out and leaving him useless again. ‘Please, Michael, look at me,' he said, making sure he had the curly haired man’s attention.

When he was confident he did, he took a deep breath. ‘You’re sick. Feverish. You’ve been sick all night and you're only getting worse,' he said, trying to convey his worry into his words. His stomach sunk when Michael frowned at him, but he felt a surge of hope when the man pulled himself into a standing position.

Michael swayed on the spot for a moment, vision blurring, before he peered up at the hopeful face of Gavin in front of him, and began determinedly making his way towards him.

‘Yes! Okay! Good, you’re doing good,’ Gavin urged. Michael stopped in front of him, swaying again, before he stumbled to his knees, exhausted body giving out under him. ‘Hey, no, hey, wake up, gotta untie me, remember?’ he urged gently, and Michael frowned, eyes still closed, at the movement.

‘Come on, wake up,' he tried.

Michael struggled to force his eyes open, and when he did, Gavin quickly thrust his bound hands into Michael’s field of view, shaking them for emphasis. Michael looked up at him in confusion.

‘Go,' Gavin commanded, and Michael squinted down at them, trying to force his vision to focus, then raised his trembling hands to the knot. ‘That’s it. Come on,' Gavin urged gently, and Michael began to untie it.

It seemed like an eternity later that Michael pulled the last knot apart with shaking fingers, and he smiled weakly up at Gavin, who was staring at his unbound hands with something akin to disbelief.

‘Good?’ Michael whispered, and Gavin turned back to him immediately.

‘Really good,' he whispered back, voice shaking with relief.

‘Sleeping now,’ was all Michael said in response, and he wavered. Gavin’s arms were around him in an instant, a small part of him cataloguing this childish innocence Michael radiated when he was sick.

He lifted the man up and carried him over to near the fire, away from where he’d thrown up earlier. He felt Michael’s forehead, but it seemed the same as earlier, still burning hot, and Gavin realised that despite the fact he was now free and able to help Michael, he wouldn’t be any use if he didn’t know what to do.

Michael’s forehead was heated, but his hands were shaking and cold. Gavin swallowed heavily, totally lost, but after a moment inspiration struck and he fumbled around in Michael’s pack for a moment before drawing out a water bottle. He unscrewed the cap and lifted it to Michael’s dry, cracked lips, tipping a tiny amount down his throat and making sure he swallowed.

When he was sure it was fine, he did it again and again until the bottle was nearly empty, and Michael’s breathing wasn't so raspy and dry. Gavin eyed their food uneasily.

He couldn't make Michael eat, so he’d have to wait until he woke up again. Until then, he didn’t really know what to do, besides give him the occasional sip of water and, from what he remembered from his childhood days, wipe at his forehead with a damp cloth.

So Gavin did just that, religiously wetting and wringing out a strip of cloth that he'd torn from his shirt and wiping down Michael’s face and his neck, trying to balance out his temperature. He kept giving him water regularly,  begging that he’d be able to keep it down. By a miracle or a large degree of luck, he did, and the sun was rising in the sky by the time he woke up next. Gavin wasted no time in grabbing the food he’d set out and holding it to Michael’s lips, making his meaning clear once the man was awake enough to understand anything.

‘Here, eat this,' he said, rubbing small circles on Michel’s back as he pulled him into a sitting position. Michael blinked up at him for a few moments, eyes lingering on Gavin's before he focused on the food before him. Gavin’s stomach sunk as Michael pulled a face at the food and leaned away.

‘Don’t want food,’ he muttered, looking legitimately disgusted at the prospect.

Gavin took a deep breath. ‘I know, but you have to eat it,' he urged gently. 

‘No,’ Michael said simply, eyes slipping shut again.

‘I’m not taking no for an answer,’ Gavin replied stubbornly, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on the other man. He prodded him in the side, this time drawing a reaction, and pushed Michael back up form where he’d begun to slump.

‘You can sleep after you eat, alright?’ Gavin said, and Michael huffed out a small breath of annoyance. Gavin smiled, because that meant he had to be feeling a little bit better, right?

So he pressed the small bite of food to Michael’s lips again, and after a moment Michael’s lips parted and he accepted the morsel hesitantly, making a face as he ate. They continued like that for a few more bites, Michael chewing the food slowly and looking as if it pained him greatly to do so.

‘No more,' he said eventually, pushing away the food Gavin was holding in front of him. He looked ready to pass out again, but he also looked slightly better, cheeks reddening in a healthier way than the flushed spots that had darkened the top of his otherwise pale cheeks before.

Gavin paused for a moment, considering whether it was worth pushing the matter, but gave up when he saw Michael’s eyes slide shut for what seemed like the millionth time.

‘Fine,' he conceded. ‘But drink this first.’

Michael didn’t even argue as Gavin pushed the second bottle of water to his lips and tipped it gently, simply opening his mouth and accepting the drink without a sound. Gavin murmured words of encouragement as he drank, but eventually Michael pushed it too away.

He settled down with a sigh, still way too warm for Gavin to relax, but Gavin felt better now that he knew Michael had some food in him, and he wasn’t going to dehydrate soon.

Gavin paused for a moment, his hands hovering, unsure of what to do now. Eventually he sighed and settled down next to Michael, close enough to touch. Michael reached out, hand brushing against Gavin’s arm and sending small shockwaves throughout the other man.

Hesitantly, Gavin reached out and touched the side of Michael's face before beginning to run his hand through Michael's hair gently, stroking the soft curls. Michael let out a small, almost unnoticeable sigh of contentedness and seemed to curl closer into Gavin.

Ignoring the goosebumps that ran up his arms from the touch, Gavin rubbed his eyes wearily, refusing to succumb to the tiredness that threatened to overwhelm him. He was exhausted, but it was okay.

With Michael sleeping, protected and safe in his arms, the thought of leaving never even crossed his mind.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's this omg  
> shoutout to the ever supportive people who like this story and inspire me to get some fucking writing done 
> 
> read & review, yo

_'Michael, come on. Open your eyes.’ A voice._

_‘Bright.’ Another voice-his voice? Rasped. ‘Too bright.’ Yes, his voice. He knew that voice. But who was the other person?_

_‘Alright, but I’m going to give you some water, okay?’ the mysterious voice urged. Michael strained to open his eyes, to force himself to look upon the face that matched the voice of this mysterious stranger, who seemed so eager to come forthwith and offer up his water._

_Water… it was rare, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he stumbled around for hours in search for it?_

_Oh well. Not the matter. Too tired._

_His eyes blinked shut._

_‘Michael, wake up, you have to drink this, you-’_

_Too tired._

* * *

 

_A spot of ice, pressed against his forehead._

_The feeling was bliss before it was gone._

_Michael moaned._

_He heard a voice ask him something, but it was far too distant to make out. It kept repeating the words and he tried his best to hear it._

_It sounded like it was coming closer. He could almost make out the words – if only they were that bit closer, he could maybe just-_

_Gone. The voice was fading, dying, gone._

_Just like Michael._

* * *

 

_Distant shaking. Warm hands pressed against a part of him, but for the life of him Michael couldn’t figure out where._

_Voices._

_No, just the one voice._

_That familiar voice that had plagued him for what felt like eternity. He couldn’t hear anything but that voice, and it was so persistent, the only thing that penetrated the sheer blackness of where he floated._

_Where was he? Why couldn’t he see?_

_He became distantly aware his thoughts were leaving, but he was too far gone to care._

* * *

 

_Every time he started thinking again, the voice started up._

_Somehow, they were connected._

_Thoughts, words. Thoughts, words._

_He could pick out an errant few._

_‘Sick.’ ‘Scared.’_

_His name._

_The voice was quiet and gentle when he felt his mouth mumble words that he didn’t understand, didn’t give permission for himself to say._

_But when he started to fall, the voice got louder._

_He wondered what it was saying._

* * *

 

_He was running the words over and over in his brain. The same few words that had been repeated over and over. He knew they were words._

_He knew they had a meaning._

_He heard the voice speak again._

_Focus, Michael._

_See, he knew his name._

_He knew words. He knew these words._

_‘Wake up, Michael.’_

_Oh._

* * *

 

The heat encompassing Michael pulled and dragged him towards conciousness, ignorant to his cries. It was only when a cool hand stoked his cheek and hushed him gently that he realised he was mumbling.  


He coughed. Opened his eyes. Coughed again.

After a moment, he blinked rapidly and hauled himself into a sitting position, ignoring the soft protests beside him, telling him not to be silly and not to hurt himself now, he was still too weak.

'Where am I?' he asked.

'You're safe,' the voice replied. It took him a moment but he placed that voice with the face that haunted his dreams, the sparkling green eyes and mussy hair. It took him a moment to place it, but when he did he wished he hadn't, because a surprising amount of coherency returned and he knew that face, and he knew the problems behind it.

'Gavin,' he mumbled. He wouldn't let him win, wouldn't let him drag him into this game he knew was being played. He heard an affirmative, questioning response. 'Gavin,' he murmured again, and this time he heard the answer clearly.

'Yes?'

_Not gunna let him win._

_''_ Still gunna kill you, Gavin,' he managed, sharp words from soft lips. 'You're not gunna win.' 

He fell then, back into blissful blissful oblivion, escaping words he wouldn't remember saying for a while yet and would regret sorely when he did. Escaping the whispered reply that accompanied the soft strokes on his forehead, a sensation that followed him into unconsciousness and gave him comfort through his delirious pain.

Escaping the pained ' _I know_.' 

* * *

 

Gavin jerked awake on the evening of an indiscernible number of nights, reaching out blindly for Michael to reassure himself that he was still there and still alive. He gave a sharp cry of surprise when instead of closing his hand around anything, a hand grabbed his, twisting it backwards and holding it painfully there.

‘ _What_ -’ Gavin managed, before a hand covered his mouth. His eyes flew open and he struggled, managing to wiggle his way out of the grip and back away from the attacker. After a moment, his vision focused.

‘Michael?’ he asked hesitantly, and the figure released him.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Michael rasped, not quite managing to remain fully upright, bending slightly with one arm around his midsection.

‘Michael! You scared me!’ Gavin cried, relief flooding through him for a multitude of reasons.

Michael stumbled towards him, intending to attack, but his body failed under him halfway through and he was halfway down when Gavin lunged forward, wrapping steady arms around him and lowering him gently to the ground.

‘Don’t hurt yourself,' he murmured.

‘Don’t,' Michael protested weakly.

‘You’re still sick. You’re still hot. Come on. Bed.’

‘What’s...’

‘Doesn’t bed sound good, Michael?’

Yeah, it really did.

* * *

 

When Michael was released from conciousness again it was to the now familiar feeling of a bottle being pressed to his lips, and he lifted his fuzzy head just enough to swallow without choking.

That had happened before. It wasn’t fun.

Eventually the water was taken away, but he wasn’t satisfied and couldn't help the pitiful keen that escaped his lips for more. 

Disgruntled and confused, he forced his bleary eyes open and came face to face with Gavin, which is a scary sight regardless of whether you’ve just awoken from days of deliriousness or not.

‘ _Jesus-_!’ he choked out, and Gavin just smiled gently at him. ‘What's goin' on?’ he muttered, sitting upright properly. He waited a moment for his head to clear before he looked back up at Gavin again.

‘You awake now?’ Gavin asked, but the way he said it sounded as if he’d asked it a million times before. Regardless, he was peering down at Michael with concern and a certain kind of... fondness.

Redness tinged Michael's cheeks. ‘What?’ Michael asked again, rubbing childishly at his eyes. 

‘You feeling better?’ Gavin reworded.

‘I feel terrible. What happened?’ Michael asked, and Gavin just looked at him. ‘What?’ Michael demanded, but lacked the intensity he needed to sound like anything more than a whiny two year old. An adorable, whiny two year old.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ Gavin replied. Michael didn’t respond except to furrow his brow in frustration, but instead of rushing on to explain like Michael expected, Gavin just smiled weakly at him and smothered a yawn.

‘Bed time?’ he offered, as he did every time, but this time Michael surprised him, shaking his head with a surprising amount of vigour as he straightened up.

‘What’s going on?’ Michael repeated, the repetition echoing in his head. Gavin did a double take. Michael sat still as Gavin’s gave him a one over, noting the small details like the flush in his cheeks and the stillness in his hands before he broke into a grin.

‘Michael!’ Gavin cheered, automatically, ‘I think your fever broke!’ He froze for a split second before he jumped up and grabbed the bag, which was probably within reach anyway, but he felt the need to get up and express the delight running through him.

‘My… what?’ Michael asked, but he ignored whatever explanation Gavin may have offered as he thought over what he could remember. The river, the walk, the chill that had settled on him and refused to be shaken off. How it had worsened, seeping into his lungs and chest and head and _bones_ until he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think, and the last thing he clearly remembered was staring at Gavin while helplessness flooded him through.

‘I should have noticed earlier but I’m just so tired, I-’

‘How long have I been sick?’ Michael asked, interrupting whatever Gavin was saying, and he paused.

‘A few days. Five, maybe. Give or take,' he said.

Michael tried not to express how that bothered him. He was feeling the tiredness creeping up on him again, but he wanted answers before he slept. He just couldn’t make sense of the fucking situation.

‘You’re walking around,' he stated lamely, at a total loss for anything besides pointing out the obvious.

Gavin rolled his eyes, as if he’d heard that a million times before too. ‘Yeah, I am. You untied me.’ 

‘I- When?’ Michael demanded, and Gavin looked legitimately annoyed.

‘Does it matter? _No,_ I haven’t run away, _yes_ , you untied me, _yes_ , I probably saved your life so _please_ don’t accuse me of trying to kill you again, _no_ , I didn’t do this to you,' he listed off, staring at Michael with frustration.

Michael sat there, completely confused. ‘Again?’ he managed; mind clinging onto one thing that stood out from the torrent of words he was still too tired to get a hold of.

‘Yes, again. This isn’t the first time you’ve woken up, Michael,’ Gavin stated.

‘It isn’t?’ Michael repeated, feeling a flash of annoyance thud dully against his fried brain at his failure to grasp what Gavin was saying.

‘No. I lost count.’ Gavin forgot about his frustration in order to crouch down next to Michael and slip a practiced hand against his forehead, his neck, his chest. ‘I was right, your fever broke,' he said, looking a draining mixture of proud, relieved, excited and tired.

‘You’re on the mend, lad!’ he declared. ‘But you’re not there yet. I think you should go back to sleep,' he said.

Michael wanted to disagree, really, he wanted to argue and demand an explanation, to fight and spit and figure out what was going on but the exhaustion settling over him had its own ideas.

He lay down, and it was only when he was on the cusp of unconsciousness that he felt Gavin lie down beside him.

* * *

 

Michael was awoken by approaching footsteps, and while his first instinct was to grab his sword and run it through the chest of the intruder closing in. It was only as they approached that he realised he _knew_ those clumsy footsteps, so he relaxed his rigid form into the makeshift bedding beneath him with a sigh as Gavin approached.

‘Oh, you awake then?’ Gavin asked cheerily, and Michael peeked an eye up to glare at him. With one eye, it wasn’t that effective, but he got the point across because Gavin laughed quietly before dropping dramatically to the ground.

Michael sighed, feeling admittedly better than he had in days, and pulled himself into a sitting position. ‘Oh, Christ,' he groaned, stretching his body. ‘This is orgasmic.’

He opened his eyes and glanced at Gavin, eyes narrowing for a second as his mind clocked that something was wrong.

‘You look like you haven’t eaten in a fucking year. Jesus,' he commented, and there was a fair sense of truth behind his words. Gavin’s face was decidedly more gaunt and hollow than it had been a week ago, and his already thin frame had slimmed even more. ‘What do we got to eat?’

Michael posed the question as he rolled onto his stomach to grab the bag and rifle through it. He paused. ‘Are we out of food?’ he asked, glancing suspiciously at Gavin, who went bright red.

‘I’ve never rationed before! Really. Not for two people,' he defended. ‘I didn’t know how much to give you so you wouldn’t starve.’

‘Dude, I’m fine. You’re the one that looks like you haven’t eaten the whole week. When did you eat last?' he asked, not putting much thought into it until he heard the response. 

Or rather, he didn't. Gavin was silent.

'Gavin?' Michael turned to narrow his eyes at him.

A pause. 'Few days ago,' Gavin admitted finally, when Michael didn't relent, aiming for nonchalant but landing at nervous.

Michael put down the things in his hands. ‘When was the last time I ate?’ he asked, a sneaking suspicion causing him to tense up.

Gavin perked up a bit at that. ‘I made sure you had food, but I really didn’t know how much to give you so you wouldn’t starve because you’re a little bigger than me, so-‘

‘When?’ Michael interrupted, voice quiet.

Gavin clued in on his demeanour and swallowed. ‘Today,' he said uneasily. ‘I made sure you had food,' he repeated, unsure why with every word he said Michael looked angrier.

‘You gave me all the food and you didn’t eat for days?’ Michael reiterated.

When Gavin nodded, Michael felt irrational fury rise in him. What kind of self sacrificing  _asshole-_

‘Why?’ he asked instead.

‘You were dying, Michael! It was important!’ Gavin cried.

‘Shut up,’ Michael said, glancing around them furtively. ‘You didn’t eat at _all_?’

‘We didn’t have very much,' Gavin said quietly. ‘What we had was barely enough for one of us, and I’m not going to let you die of starvation after,’ he gestured wildly ‘all _that_.’

‘I wouldn’t have starved!’ Michael yelled, disregarding his earlier unspoken complaints for quietness in favour of getting his point through Gavin’s skull.

Gavin’s selfless, caring, _idiot_ skull.

‘You were sick! I’m perfectly healthy! Anyway,’ Gavin shrugged, ‘going without food is no big deal to me. You look like you haven’t had to go without food for long before.’

‘I’m not saying,’ he hurried on as Michael opened his mouth to retort ‘that you don’t live a tough life sometimes. This is proof enough. But you’re smart and strong enough to get your own food. You were helpless. I needed to help you.’

Michael shook his head, at a loss for words.

‘You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,' he said coldly, but Gavin just grinned at him, at ease back on seemingly familiar grounds. He was about to reply when Michael continued.

‘No, I’m serious. I’m _dead_ serious. You had all this time, _all this fucking time_ to escape, to leave me to die, to get away and save your own life and live a cushy life with some bartender you could probably pick up in two seconds flat.’

Gavin was stunned. ‘I-’

'Why the fuck would you stick around?!' Michael demanded.

Several beats of silence passed. 'I couldn't leave knowing you might die,' Gavin murmured quietly, and Michael shook his head wildly in denial.

‘You could have lived with a clean conscience if you left as soon as I woke up the first time. I would have recovered, hunted and eaten, and survived to hunt you down another day. Yeah you’re an unselfish person, a caring, obviously kind hearted person who wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if you’d left me to die.’

‘But why, _Gavin,'_ Michael spat accusingly, as if he could inject enough venom into his voice to make Gavin recoil, 'didn’t you run as soon as I woke up before? When I was awake and you knew I was going to survive?’

‘I’m an idiot?’ Gavin laughed. ‘I couldn’t know you would live.’ He shrugged, hoping Michael would just drop it.

‘ _No_ ,’ Michael hissed, frustration overwhelming him and demanding its sweet release. ‘At the very least, you could have gone off knowing you’d done all you could.’

‘It’s past idiocy, now, it’s not you missing your chance, because you had a solid week to leave but you damn well didn’t. It’s past kindness, because you know I’m fucking fine now and you’re _still_ not running, not even while I’m giving you the chance. And it’s not heroics, because for all you say you’re ready to repent for what you’ve done I’ve seen you flinch in the face of death.’

He paused, chest heaving. ‘So why is it you know that, despite everything, I’m going to lead you to your death in a few days, and you’re still not running away?’

Gavin was quiet.

It crept up on Michael, slithering its way down his spine and seeping into his brain. He froze for a moment, stunned with shock before he scrambled to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at Gavin, his whole body trembling with confusion and pain and his ever present anger. 

‘No,’ he said.

‘It’s not true,’ he said.

‘You’re lying,’ he said.

And Gavin’s silence remained between the two of them, screaming with everything left unspoken, with the reminder that no, he hadn’t said a word.

But he hadn't needed to. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a bit longer I ended up completely rewriting the entire chapter and now I have to do that to the rest wHY AM I SO INDECISIVE
> 
> but enjoy
> 
> read & review, yo

Michael closed his eyes.

This was a nightmare. A _nightmare._ What else could it be?

He’d wake from it and laugh, and never mention a word to Gavin because even the prospect of it was ridiculous. Sure, Gavin had kissed him, but he was just confused. Sure, the man was gay, but that didn’t mean he fell for everybody he met, right?

It didn’t mean he fell for Michael.

It couldn't.

He took a shaky breath and he stood for a moment, eyes closed against the shards of truth that drove themselves relentlessly against the wall he was building in his mind, each shard reflecting a moment between them; the kiss, the shared touches, the affectionate ‘idiots’ and sidewards glances eternally captured inside Michael’s memory.

He pretended the shards weren’t there, that he didn’t flinch from every piece that slipped past, slicing its truth into his brain and building itself up and leaving something he couldn’t escape from, but all of a sudden the silence was wearing at him; the guilt he’d hoped he’d destroyed was clawing at his insides and he was so _sick_ of this stupid asshole and the way he made him feel things he never fucking wanted to feel, sick of his stupid face and bright eyes that made him guilty about _everyfuckingthing,_ made him not want to hurt him anymore.

Which, in retrospect, made him hurt him more, just to prove to himself that Gavin didn’t mean jack shit to him. It was a long and complicated cycle that Michael refused to admit, and it just fed into the anger problems he _maybe_ had with Gavin.

Maybe. But he was tired of the other man’s eyes dancing in his head, teasing him wordlessly and promising a lifetime of humour and comfort _~~and perfection if the man wasn’t a multi murderer~~_  that Michael wasn’t sure he could find in anyone else.

So the silence welcomed the guilt, fed it, and he stared at Gavin wordlessly as every punch, every insult, every rejection and mocking laugh and move against Gavin started building up into a wave that swallowed him whole, taunting him with the fact that he’d hurt this man enough already, far too much than he should have and now there wasn’t anything he could do.

This man who could be innocent, who could be safe, who needed protection with everything from bugs to himself, who hadn’t raised a hand against Michael and didn’t hate Michael for not doing the same to him.

Who bounced back from everything and thought nothing of himself and everything of others, even those who treated him like dirt, whose first thought was always _protect_ and never _save yourself._ Who forged a friendship with the very man who came to take him away to a short drop and a sudden stop at the end of what would feel like a lifetime of torture.

Who fell in love with him.

The familiar anger that usually overwhelmed Michael when he was faced with something he didn’t like or understand was absent, all the negative thoughts and energies fading away to be replaced by something else.

Two things, in fact.

A realisation, and a decision.

Michael took a took a deep breath and turned to Gavin, opened his mouth to tell him they were leaving, going far from here and this place _~~because it held memories and opportunities and promises of things that could never really be real~~_ and-

He kissed him.

From one moment to the next, from stock still to a flurry of movement as he grabbed Gavin’s waist and pulled him in close, buried a hand in his hair and _hated himself_ as Gavin didn’t fight back, no, just relaxed into Michael’s rigid form and gave as good as he got.

The shock that had arisen in Gavin dissipated almost immediately and he breathed against him, running his hands up and down Michael’s body and just _touching,_ because this was something he’d dreamed of doing and never thought would ever be done- never by him at least. Thoughts were running through his head a million miles an hour, doubts and fears combated by hope and excitement, but that was nothing compared to the pandemonium that was Michael’s mind.

Michael had dubbed it impossible to make sense of so he didn’t even try, trusting his body to lead him the right way. And really, it felt like it was - because if he didn’t like this, didn’t like Gavin, then why did his body feel like it was on fire?

Why did it feel like explosions and like his blood was burning hot in his veins but blissfully so, and in a way that made him hold Gavin tighter when he pressed kisses to the side of his neck and his hand slunk into his pants?

 

Why did he feel like everything was so clichéd and complete when Gavin broke the kiss to gain his breath and leaned his forehead against Michael and nothing but affection and wanton need shuttered his mind?

All questions Michael couldn’t answer and didn’t want to think about, and he was content to just lose himself in the feeling of stripping Gavin down to nothing, and in being stripped himself - in the way Gavin’s hand led his further and further down and how he moaned gently when Michael hit the spot _just right_ , and when he was prepped and ready  and Michael pushed himself deep into Gavin, kissing him and murmuring quiet assurances, well.

He found he didn’t want to think at all.

 

* * *

 

They fell asleep together, huddled on the small bedding, both too exhausted and too unwilling to think about what had just happened between them. The night passed quickly, and when the morning sun drew Gavin from his peaceful slumber he let out a groan of protest which was quickly replaced by silence as the memories that had taunted his disbelieving dreams settled on the forefront of his mind.

He froze, hoping not to have awoken Michael, and he received fruit for his efforts when the only response Michael gave was to roll over and face him, nose wrinkling adorably in his sleep. Never one to pass up a good opportunity, Gavin squinted his eyes mostly shut and just _looked_.

Auburn hair. Smattering of freckles. Button nose. Long eyelashes. All things Gavin knew about Michael. But beneath that, beauty – in the rise of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips, the curve of his throat. In the things no one could see unless they were looking, unless it was what they’d been unknowingly searching for their whole lives.

He closed his eyes, letting the peacefulness of the scene eternalise in his memory, and he must have drifted off because when he opened his eyes next Michael was looking at him, and judging by the way his eyes averted and the blush that rose in his perfect cheeks it had been the same way Gavin had studied him.

It was a hesitant smile that Gavin offered him, and it was returned just as tentatively, and Gavin had just enough time to note how his eyes crinkled cutely in the corners when Michael rolled away and went to stand up. Gavin had the good grace to look away as Michael gathered his clothes.

‘Well,' he said, when they were both clothed and staring at the camp. There was a sense of hominess about it, of- well, being well lived in. Gavin skipped over that thought in favour of offering a small smile to Michael.

It didn't go far in terms of comfort.

‘Well,’ Michael repeated, but there was a crack in his voice, a waver that gave away his internal confliction. Gavin blinked as Michael stepped back and ran both hands through his hair, looking thoroughly lost. It wasn’t often Michael was lost, but if ever a situation more fitting than the one they found themselves in he’d love to hear it.

Gavin, intelligent and instinctive enough not to approach him, simply sat down on an overturned log and waited for a cue. It was a while before Michael lifted his head from his hands, and he didn’t look any better off than he had when he’d done it.

‘Fuck.’ He laughed, an uncomfortable sound that echoed around the clearing and made Gavin shift on his seat, keeping his mouth resolutely shut. ‘I don’t…’ Michael started, but gave up on that train of thought.

He leaned against a tree, seeking comfort. ‘What am I meant to do?’ he asked quietly, but he wasn’t asking Gavin. It was the pleading of a man who knew, who knew terrible things were to come and found himself helplessly rooted in the middle of it. ‘What am I meant to do?’ He demanded, voice raised to high heavens. ‘Huh?! What the fuck kind of situation is this? What kind of-’

He cut himself off, twisting to Gavin, but instead of anger it was that same haunting look of being lost. He opened his mouth but snapped it shut a second later, looking shocked at himself for whatever he’d been about to say. He coughed uncomfortably, alternating between looking everywhere except Gavin and staring directly at him, as if he held the answers to the universe in his pretty little eyes.

It was useless, so instead of speaking he just carded his hands through his hair one last time and started to gather the camp. It was a menial move but it seemed to calm his nerves with the familiarity of it, and when he finished he looked noticeably less shaken. He took a deep breath.

‘Right,' he said, and looked to Gavin, and it was then the rope tethered to the tree caught his eye. He stared at it for a moment, lost again, and when rage flashed over his features it was Gavin who stepped forward and untied the rope from the tree, handing it to Michael with a comforting, weak smile and an understanding nod.

Confused, Michael just held it in his hands, and it was only when Gavin raised his hands meaningfully that he snapped his gaze up to meet him. ‘You can think about it.’ Gavin whispered, and the rope was tied. Michael, for his part, looked more at home with the situation, and despite the pain it caused his barely healed wrists and the fact that _Christ Michael had issues_ and they were still heading _there_ Gavin figured it was worth it.

Honestly, he didn’t know what to expect, what was going through Michael’s mind, what had even really happened in the first damn place, but he knew he couldn’t ask. He wasn’t afraid, no, and his curiosity was burning as bright as the star in the North but he couldn’t bring himself to, solely for the sake of his companion. For Michael, because yeah, this was Gavin's life but it was Michael's choice, and if this was real what it came down to was whether it was worth letting a murderer live for the sake of his feelings.

Not an easy decision. Not one he should even be in, and Gavin felt his own fair share of guilt for putting him in it, even though it had been the highlight of his life to see emotions that weren't hate or annoyance cross his face when he looked at him. He felt it now, the thrumming of his heart against the elevated pace of Michaels as they rocked together, moved together, and it was more than just the sexual aspect (not that that was anything new) but he'd never expected Michael to return anything, never expected him to kiss him or fuck him or whisper he was beautiful or even _smile at him_ -

But maybe he was just over thinking the situation. Michael was intense and surprising and unpredictable, and Gavin had no way of knowing what was really going through his mind. So he forced himself to settle, to stop thinking, because his brain was an idiot and hopeful and he knew that as unpredictable as he was Michael was also stubborn, and that could hardly bode well for Gavin.

So he settled, trying not to watch Michael too conspicuously, and waited.

Michael, who'd been watching Gavin's internal debate while partaking in his own, was gnawing at his lip and stealing glances at the rope around Gavin’s wrists every time he shimmied them in an attempt to get comfortable. It was sadly poor and ineffective as far as attempts go, but from the options available Michael guessed it was probably the best one he had.

Gavin was jerked from his daze at the feeling of cold hands once more on his. He froze as his mind tried to process what was happening, but he couldn’t seem to come to a logical conclusion as he watched Michael deftly untie the ropes securing him.

Out of habit, he quickly pulled his hands up to rub at his painful wrists, and he felt a stab of fear when Michael reached out and grabbed them, preventing him from retracting them further. He was silent as Michael reached behind him, avoiding Gavin’s eyes the whole time, and withdrew two strips of a shirt he’d saved earlier. He quickly tied them around Gavin’s wrists, and Gavin noted distantly that they were just thick enough to prevent the ropes ruining the mess of his wrists more.

When he was finished, Michael retied the ropes, making sure they were positioned over the makeshift bandages. He pulled away after he finished, still avoiding Gavin’s eyes because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the consequences of what all his actions could mean.

But when he finished scanning the area and they set off once more to go, he found himself looking back at Gavin, catching the man admiring the bandages on his wrists with what looked like awe. And Michael felt like maybe he could ignore his consequences and where they were meant to be going until the fucking _end of time,_ as long as it meant he could see that look on Gavin’s face again.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for mistakes whatnot the writing and upload of this was rushed as fuck, but enjoy.
> 
> also yall should check out my other story cos yeah  
> read & review, yo

‘Michael?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Where are we?’ Gavin asked, heaving himself over a small boulder and nearly landing on Michael, who was waiting for him at the bottom.

‘I don’t know the name of these places,’ Michael panted, steadying Gavin before he broke his fucking nose. ‘Halfway between Satan’s asshole and fucking nowhere.’

‘Oh, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,’ Gavin remarked, but he kept his eyes on Michael.

‘Three days, if that’s what you want to know,’ Michael informed him, glancing at him sharply from the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction.

‘Yeah,’ Gavin said simply. He looked like he wanted to say more, glancing curiously at Michael every now and then as they travelled, and it was driving Michael insane. He wanted to know the other man’s take on it, he wasn’t denying that, but like hell was he going to bring it up.

If he did, it would be implying that he was interested in the answer, and that wasn’t something he wanted Gavin to think. Because maybe he was. Just a little bit.

For fucks sake, the man hadn’t said a word about it. Sure, Michael hadn’t either, but that was different. Totally different. Michael didn’t even care that much, but he was past the point of assuming things about Gavin. The man had surprised him enough in the relatively short time he’d known him, and he’d learned his lesson. So the last thing Michael was about to do was do it again and assume that Gavin was just waiting for Michael to set him free.

But why wouldn’t he want him to? Why wouldn’t Gavin choose life? Why wasn’t he asking Michael to consider it, or ask him what he was thinking, or ask why what happened happened, or- God, it was a calamity.

 _Gavin_ was a calamity, and he was driving Michael insane.

He shook his head. He’d leave it, and if Gavin wanted to say anything or know anything, he could fucking bring it up.

But maybe Michael could hint it at him,  _subtly_ imply somehow that there were just a few things he _needed_ to _know_ if he was going to even think about letting Gavin live.

God, Michael was so screwed. A week and a less fucked up mind ago, he wouldn’t even have second guessed taking Free to the headquarters and now, it was all that plagued him.

Was it the right thing? Was Gavin all he made out to be? Why didn’t he ever talk about what happened? Why didn’t he at least try and convince Michael, try and save himself?

Damn, dude, Michael wasn’t cut out for this shit.

He distantly realised Gavin had turned away, and it was far too late to say anything to continue their admittedly scanty conversation now. So they were silent for a while, simply focused on scaling the obstacles in their path or, in one annoying case, having to backtrack around an unclimbable cliff face.

When they’d successfully got back on track and were again making good time, Michael decided to say fuck it and breach the unspoken tabooed subject that was plaguing him.

The only problem was he had no idea how to breach it. He took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to mind.

‘Three days isn’t a long time.’ He said casually, wincing against the stupidity of it.But it could have been worse.

At least it wasn’t _hey if you asked me not to kill you I’m not even sure what I’d do anymore_ or _tell me what you’re goddamn thinking_ or heaven forbid _tell me you’re innocent try and save your stupid goddamn life why won’t you just fucking **try?!**_

None of those, so. That was a start.

He was jerked back to reality when Gavin snorted, peeking out at him from his ridiculously long eyelashes.‘It isn’t, really,' he said, probably aiming for mysterious but landing at stupid. ‘But it also is.’

Michael blinked at him. ‘Wow, thanks for that truly inspiring answer,' he muttered. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or pissed off that Gavin was avoiding it when Michael was obviously reaching out. ‘The fuck does that even mean?’

Gavin laughed lightly. ‘Well, to other people in the world, it could seem like the longest time. It could feel like years away, but to me, and others like me, it could feel like the shortest time in the world.’

‘O…kay,’ Michael said, but he saw the point behind Gavin’s words, and he winced slightly at what Gavin had unintentionally told him.

_He was scared._

‘I guess. Weird thing to say, though,' he finished, voice tight.

‘Well, I mean, to you and I it’s right around the corner, yeah? It’s _right there._ But to say, someone who’s pregnant, three days might seem like it’s forever away. And a lot can happen in three days.’

‘Well yeah, but that’s relative,’ Michael responded, his brow furrowed in thought. ‘Time is relative.’

‘That’s what I’m saying!’ Gavin exclaimed.

‘Yeah, but you’re saying it wrong.’

Gavin spluttered indignantly. ‘I am not,' he defended ‘That’s what I was saying with the whole pregnancy thing! That it might seem like its heaps far away, over the eight months-’

‘Nine.’ _Or did they count it as ten?_

‘But the actual birth of the baby would feel like it’s dragging on forever because of how much it’d hurt-’

‘Alright, this conversation’s over,’ Michael interrupted, shoving his hand in Gavin’s face, desperately trying to ignore the parallels Gavin was obliviously drawing between pregnancy and childbirth and fucking travelling and _torture._ Gavin yelped, but refused to give in.

‘You see what I’m saying, though?’ he persisted.

Michael sighed. ‘Yes, Gavin,' he said condescendingly.

Gavin raised an eyebrow in challenge, staring at Michael expectantly. Michael stubbornly stared back.

This time Gavin was the one to give in, and he was silent for a while longer, Michael mulling over the conversation and Gavin being all philosophical and shit, both of them ignoring the approaching night that would indicate another day done, another day closer.

‘Hey, Michael?’ Gavin started, and Michael groaned. ‘Hey!’ Gavin cried defensively. ‘You didn’t let me finish!’

‘Correction. I didn’t even let you start.’

‘Michael,’ Gavin whined crossly.

‘Eugh, what?’ Michael moaned. Naturally, he was curious what Gavin had to say, almost hoping it would be any information, any inkling of a preference to the situation they were both studiously failing to ignore.

‘What do you think’s worse? Waiting for something bad, or it actually happening?’

Michael almost choked on his spit, managing to trip over his own feet at the downright shock at the question. Gavin was avoiding his eyes, staring stubbornly ahead, giving no indication he’d said anything at all.

It had been the first time he’d ever really brought up anything to do with where they were going besides the occasional, vaguely worded ‘How long?’ question. Michael swallowed down his surprise and tried to formulate a response.

‘I, uh.Um. Depends how bad,’ he said, buying time. Gavin pulled his gaze away from the ground ahead and glanced at him before flicking his eyes away.

‘Really bad,' he whispered.

Michael ignored the bile rising in his throat and forced an honest answer. ‘Theoretically, um. For… something bad. I, uh.'

He got annoyed at himself then, for being a stupid stuttering idiot, and he turned his gaze to Gavin. ‘It might feel like the waiting is bad, but the reality would be about a thousand times worse.’

They looked at each other before Gavin tore his gaze away, staring at the ground again. He cleared his throat and muttered out a short ‘Thanks.’

Michael kept looking at him, watching Gavin blink rapidly, and he felt his heart lurch in his chest. He had to do _something_. Gavin _had_ to talk to him.

‘But the future isn’t set in stone. Things… Things can change.’

Gavin looked up at him, watery eyes reflecting the tiniest degree of something, and Michael said the first thing he could think of.

‘You could realise you really care about someone.’

He turned his eyes away from Gavin, to the floor, the sky, back to him.

‘You could wish for something and long for someone. You could realise you want them and you need them, and you’re going to be so lost when they’re gone because you could realise you’re hurting someone, and you could realise that what you’re doing is something that means you’re never going to get them back.’

Silence.

Michael stared at him, desperately trying to convey something, but Gavin couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. He turned away instead, feeling no small degree of sick.

He desperately wanted to reassure Michael, to comfort him, to help him when he was so obviously reaching out, but Gavin just couldn’t.

He understood Michael, knew him well enough to know that if he didn’t say a word, didn’t offer a sliver of advice, Michael would do what he knew was right and take him to the headquarters and give him up, regardless of his own feelings. He knew Michael wouldn’t ask him, because that wasn’t in his nature, and he’d had a lot of experience in this. In his job it was kill first ask questions later.

And he knew Michael would hurt, would hurt a fucking lot, and that was what made him the most reluctant of all. He knew Michael would feel guilty, lonely, would wish he’d asked of Gavin’s innocence – properly - and probably lose a lot of sleep because that’s the kind of man he was – a good one.

Unlike Gavin.

Michael had to take him there. He wished with all his heart it wasn’t Michael, that he wasn’t the one that had to take him, or that he’d fallen for him at all – it was unexpected, even to Gavin; he’d honestly thought he was alone in his feelings, and it had come as the surprise of his life when Michael has kissed him, but it had to be him.

Gavin tried to find it in him to regret what had happened between them, because he knew it would only serve to hurt Michael more in the end, but honestly he couldn’t. He was glad to have had that taste of what Michael was really like, to have that memory to keep with him when he suffered.

And suffer he would. He couldn’t give Michael false hope. Gavin had to pay for what had happened. He wasn’t a religious man, but he believed in karma, and he knew the guilt alone in his heart wasn’t enough to relieve him of his wrongdoings.

So while Gavin started the arduous process of sorting through the confused jumble of feelings and emotions, Michael was focused on other things.

Namely Gavin, and when Michael was going to ask what had really happened the day Gavin became a murderer.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hERES THIS
> 
> read & review, yo

When they next set up camp it was that very night, the moon riding high in the sky and the chill settling in promising a night of hypothermic temperatures if they didn’t set up a fire, and soon. Michael chewed at his lip as they bunkered down, tying Gavin to the tree absentmindedly as he went over the plans for everything in his head.

‘So a festival, you say,’ Gavin said for about the thousandth time. Michael groaned loudly, thought process disrupted.

‘How many times do you want me to confirm it?’ he asked, irrationally annoyed. Gavin pursed his lips. ‘It’s a fucking _festival_. What’s so hard to understand?’

‘I understand that it’s a festival, but a _festival?’_

Michael blinked at him. ‘You say that like you expect me to know what you mean.’

‘Well, I just can’t get over that you’re taking me through one. I mean, I thought you’d be like “ _arhh fun, get it away, let’s go around_ ” and all, you know?’

Michael opened his mouth, unsure as to whether to be offended or not, before rubbing the bridge of his nose as he settled down next to the fire. ‘It’s faster this way,' he said, and he was proud of the way his voice didn’t waver.

Gavin, to his credit, didn’t push it, simply accepting the answer with a nod and moving onto the next question.

Fuck, always with the questions.

‘So why’d we stop so early?’ he asked, and Michael looked at him and then up at the sky pointedly, and Gavin stifled a chuckle. ‘Well, I thought you’d want us to walk all night.’

‘No offence, but you’re not exactly in peak physical form,’ Michael shot back.

‘Your fault.’

‘And I wanted to get us away from the town, but not too close to where the festival is being set up, you know? We’re in the middle, in the place least likely to attract any… unwanted attention,’ Michael replied.

Gavin shrugged unworriedly. ‘You’d fight them all off.’

‘…That’s awfully presumptuous of you, on account of you assuming I wouldn’t just leave you to die,' he teased, and Gavin just smiled at him, an odd smile that made Michael strangely suspicious.

It wasn’t cheeky, but it wasn’t… his usual smile. There was something hidden behind it, but Michael couldn’t decipher what.

‘Anyway, I’m buggered. Sleep time?’ Gavin suggested, stretching slightly. Michael hesitated before nodding his assent and lying back against the covers, staring at the starry sky as prepared to put his not-very-well-planned plan into action.

He ran the potential questions over in his mind, still unsure as what he could even fucking say. Should he hint at it? No, Gavin might avoid it.

But if he asked outright Gavin might sense weakness and try and convince him he was innocent, and what if he wasn’t?

But what if Gavin didn’t, and it was a plot to make Michael doubt his innocence even more? Did he know Michael doubted his innocence? (Well, lack thereof.) He had to, he couldn’t have not picked up on it before, but he hadn’t reacted and he _was_ kinda dumb, so maybe he didn’t get the hint?

But if he was innocent why would he be letting Michael do this? Why wouldn’t he dispute it and try and argue the truth?

Michael huffed a breath out of his nose in annoyance.

If he was innocent, and he told Michael so, he’d tell him. If he wasn’t innocent, and Gavin wanted to die for it, then there was no other choice. That’s what it boiled down to.

He was so lost in his thoughts that Michael didn’t notice the approach of four silent figures as he reached over to shake Gavin’s sleeping form.

‘Gavin,' he said, rousing the other man. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind of everything.

Gavin sat up sleepily and rubbed at his eyes before blinking up at Michael, asking ‘What? What do you-’

But Michael cut him off, holding a hand up to silence him as he shot into a sitting position, his body alerting him they had company in that surreal, familiar way it had. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling, his hand was itching to clasp around his sword and Gavin was staring at him from across the fire, eyes wide and trusting and-

They were surrounded. Several figures – _four_ , his mind inserted after a split second – and they’d obviously been collaborating if the position of attack was any indication.

They were closing in fast and Michael had lost the element of surprise the moment he’d addressed Gavin. He knew they were there, they knew he knew, and he knew they knew he knew. He took a moment to reflect on just how _fucking much_ Gavin had rubbed off on him before he was on his feet, sword drawn and spinning in a slow circle to get a better view of the situation.

Gavin was still staring at him, having clued into what was going on, and he flinched away as the first of the bandits stepped into view.

Contrary to what he might have expected, the bandit he could see was wearing casual clothes and had no distinct scars or any major indication to show he was what he was. Gavin might not have even been afraid if the bandit wasn’t brandishing a long sword and smirking cockily at them as he advanced.

The other three weren’t far behind, two more males and one female stepping out of the shadows and into the light, each well-armed and looking like they damn well weren’t afraid to put that armoury to good use.

‘I suggest you back away before you get hurt,' Michael said confidently, trying to assert his dominance before it got out of hand. The only response was a crude laugh and a few snide comments.

One of them sneered, the only thing differentiating him from his other male companions being a long, thick scar travelling from the middle of his upper lip, through his nose and to the corner of his eye. He was coming up fast behind Gavin, and Michael cursed silently as he held his sword out in wordless threat, mind racing through his options.

The man to his left was moving forward closer than the other, slightly wary but confident. The blood on his clothes showed that Michael wasn’t their first victim of the night.

But he sure as hell would be their last.

The bandits grip was tight, possibly too tight, his knuckles white from fear or adrenaline, Michael couldn’t tell. He held it in front of him, unpractised but cocky. The way his gaze darted to his companions and back suggested it was based on the fact they outnumbered them, and how he barely glanced at Gavin proved he knew he wasn’t going to be a problem.

Michael narrowed his eyes and took two quick, sure steps forward, planning on securing Gavin and getting him out of the way so he couldn’t be used as a prisoner.

However, the man behind Gavin, the one with the scar – the group’s leader, by the way they kept glancing at him for affirmation – was quick to retaliate, bringing the sword up and to Gavin’s neck before Michael could get in range.

Michael was fast, but he was no superhuman. He cursed loudly and narrowed his eyes, bringing his sword up between himself and the bandit to his left.

He ran through his options in his mind, and sure, it didn’t look good, but what fucking did anymore?

He spun on his heel and brought his sword around in a wide arc, slicing neatly (as neat as you can get) through the throat of the female bandit who’d tried to advance on him. He spared a split second glance at the two bandits in front of him, who were just beginning to react, and immediately turned to thrust his sword into the stomach of the man at his side.

The outraged cry of the remaining bandit who _wasn’t_ leader reached Michael’s ears, and he swung his sword back only to freeze mid-motion and bring it to a stop.

The leader chuckled, blood running thinly from the laceration he'd made against Gavin's throat. ‘Now, you don’t look very dumb. I'll slit his throat in a  _second_.'

Michael nodded.

‘Now you just killed two of my… associates… in front of me. Bad move. Very bad move, you see?'

He seemed to be awaiting a response, so Michael gave another curt nod, watchful eye noting the way the remaining bandit shifted his weight uncomfortably, disturbed by both the uncaringness of the leader towards the others deaths and how wrong this entire scene was going.

‘And I've got a feeling you want to avoid trouble. Now, I'm okay with that. I think we can come to a conclusion, you see?' 

Michael's lip curled. ‘Sure. Except your _feeling_ is wrong. I'm a bounty hunter. I start trouble for a living. And this asshole is my bounty. The rule on him? Dead or alive. So kill him, whatever, the only way it affects me is I have to carry his fucking body.’ He shrugged, face carefully blank.

He felt the man’s gaze on him, but he knew he was safe behind his bluff. The man couldn’t read for shit, was still too cocky that they were outnumbered. And Michael was right about him not caring about his associates. But it was a show of power, and the other bandit was uncomfortable and unsure now, the advantage taken out from under them and the way his boss didn’t care about them was obviously taking its toll on his… questionable loyalty.

‘Bluffin’.’ The leader grinned, his sword pressing hard into Gavin’s throat. Michael clenched his fist at the small whimper he emitted, at the way his eyes shot up to Michael's in a silent plead for help, but it only served to spur the leader on further. ‘Everybody’s bluffing. Kill first, ask later.’ 

Michael tensed. His previous assumption of the man’s instability had proven correct, but it hadn’t served to work in his favour like he’d hoped. Sure, he didn’t kill Gavin immediately when Michael killed his associates, but he’d been planning all along to kill them anyway.

Michael needed to move fast.

His dagger was in his hand and out of it within a moment, flying towards the leaders face with remarkable speed. The man sucked a breath in through his teeth and raised his sword to deflect it, and as soon as he was safe he gave a triumphant cry, but the sneer faded from his face when he found his hostage being hauled away and out of arms reach. Michael kept his grip on Gavin tight, snapping his sword down and severing the rope just in time to get Gavin behind with without breaking his arms.

‘Thanks,’ Gavin murmured faintly, shock evident on his face.

Michael stood tall, Gavin safely behind him, and he felt much better about the situation at hand now that it was one on two and he didn’t need to worry for Gavin anymore. He took a step forward, sword rising in preparation, and the leader stumbled back and reached for his remaining associate.

Michael read it in his eyes a moment too late, the same familiar insane glint he’d shown when he’d taken Gavin, but he was too slow to react and a moment later the remaining bandit was at his leader’s mercy, sword pressed to his throat as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

Even Michael was admittedly slightly surprised.

‘Move and I’ll kill him,' the leader hissed. Michael simply raised an eyebrow, and the man sneered, his mouth tilting into another sneer, the scar marring his face serving to twist it even further into a permanent scowl. 'You want an innocent man’s blood on your hands?’ 

Michael shrugged. ‘Bounty hunter, remember. I kill people all the time.’

And he honestly was not affected. Sure, he had been planning to let the remaining bandit go, but if he had to die he had to die. Michael heard a small breath behind him and spared a glance at Gavin, who was looking up at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Eyes flicking around the campsite, taking in everything about the scene before him, Michael came to a decision.

‘Kill him,' he decreed carelessly. He could easily take out the leader, and the removal of the other bandit would only serve to make his job easier. The leader snarled, twisting his sword so it drew blood from the terrified man at his mercy.

He broke eye contact and threw the hostage to his knees, raising his sword and adjusting his grip on it, nostrils flaring as he ran his tongue over his lips and began to bring the sword down.

‘Stop!’ Gavin cried, struggling to his feet. Michael span to meet Gavin halfway, shoving him back down, but the damage was done. The leader now knew, or _thought_ he’d regained some power over the situation, having appealed to a good side of one of the men in front of him.

‘No, by any means, go right ahead,’ Michael slipped in smoothly. The leader looked between the two, eyes lingering on Gavin.

‘Give me your valuables and he doesn’t have to die,’ he spat. Michael immediately shook his head.

‘Kill him,' he said, staring directly at the leader. ‘Do it or I will.’

The hostage whimpered loudly, having given up on remaining brave and falling prey to the terror of his situation. Gavin’s eyes shot to him, and he began tugging on the back of Michael’s jacket.

‘You can’t kill him,' he hissed.

Michael turned to face him, furious. ‘Shut _up._ You have no idea what the fuck's going on.’

How was he meant to explain to him that this was a ploy, that this entire scenario was a battle for power; that for every show of weakness Gavin was costing him the fight?

‘You’re going to kill a man in cold blood?’ Gavin demanded, voice high. His eyes were darting between the terrified man, whose gaze was fixed on Gavin like he was a saviour in the light, and Michael, who looked downright furious.

‘Trust me,' was all he hissed. Honestly, he didn’t care about saving the man, but this ran deeper. Giving this filth the idea he had any power over Michael was not an option. But Gavin shook his head, eyes wide and desperate and pleading, begging Michael to reconsider.

Michael ignored him, turning away. The leader was watching with an animalistic glint in his eye. ‘Division in the ranks!’ he howled. ‘Now give me all your valuables, weaponry and coins.’

Michael laughed. ‘Have you not paid any attention? He’s a _bounty._ I don’t give a fuck about him, in fact, I’m even encouraged to bring him pain. He doesn’t want an innocent man to die?’

_How odd._

‘I’ll kill him myself. It’s fun for me, really, now stop trying to read me for a bluff and either kill the man or take a running jump.’

_For a man accused of killing three kids, he sure is desperate to save a life._

‘Got it?’ Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man snarled, shifting, accidentally digging his sword further into the neck of the man beneath him. Michael wondered why the hostage wasn’t pleading yet and he immediately began sensing out, considering if this was all a ploy to distract him from some real threat, but he found nothing, no senses of his spiking with alarm.

_Why does he look so afraid for him?_

‘Stop fucking around,' he snarled, his façade of coolness beginning to break.

‘Michael, just give him something.’ Gavin pleaded behind him, the hand tugging at his jacket growing more desperate. Michael grit his teeth and relented, reaching into his satchel for several high value coins and drawing them out.

_Why does he want to save him so bad?_

He wordlessly threw them at the man opposite him, refusing to give him the satisfaction. The leader crowed but refused to remove his sword from the other man’s throat. ‘You’ve got more than that, I’m sure,' he goaded, eyeing the still weighted satchel greedily.

Michael recoiled from the greed running rampant on the man’s face. ‘Oh, sure, here, fucking take all of it,' he spat sarcastically, throwing a few more at him. The man looked satisfied with that, crouching warily with his sword still to the remaining bandit’s throat to pick up the coins.

Distantly wishing that the bandit would grow some balls and fight back, use his prevalent position to launch a counter attack, Michael straightened to his full height and waited for the leader to face him again.

‘Now _let him go.’_  

He didn’t mind the coins that much, safe in knowing he’d be getting them back soon anyway, but this had dragged on for long enough and he wanted to put an end to it. The leader started to release his hostage but stopped.

‘You’re going to kill me if I let him go,' he stated, and seemed to be racking his brains for inspiration. It struck, apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were ‘So give me your weaponry.’

Michael stared at him. ‘My weaponry?’ he repeated dubiously, before rage took him over. ‘You want my _sword?_ There’s not a chance in _hell_ you’re touching my sword you pathetic, sad sack of shit!’ 

The leader dragged his hostage a few steps backwards, swallowing heavily.

‘Let him go!’ Gavin yelled from behind him. Michael cursed inwardly, knowing Gavin had just reminded the other man of his power over them.

No, fuck that. He’d been playing long enough, he was done.

Michael launched forward with his sword, catching the leader in the side of the face and slicing half his ear off.

He gave a scream of pain and flew backwards, his grip on his hostage never loosening. Michael used his momentum to disarm him, twisting the other man’s sword out and away from his body with a quick flick of the wrist.

In response, the man wrapped a thick arm around his hostage’s throat and continued propelling them backwards, his free hand cupped uselessly over his flap of ear.

‘Michael!’ Gavin cried. It wasn’t in worry for Michael, rather in warning to the way the leader was constricting the air supply of his hostage. Michael didn’t bother with a reply, mind already racing for his next attack, having already seen and noticed the death grip.

‘Michael, do something!’ Gavin cried again from behind him, moving to stand.

‘ _Gavin_ , for fuck's sake,’ Michael hissed. He didn’t say anything after that, instead choosing to follow the leader’s footsteps and tread lightly in his wake, sword raised and ready for the opportunity to strike.

‘Michael, he’s killing him!’ Gavin yelled. His unspoken plea rung in Michael’s ears, the guilt begging to be let in and start its ever present gnawing on him again. Not now, though.

Michael flicked his sword out and around the hostage, a thin laceration opening up around the leader’s ribs. The leader had apparently sensed Michael’s lack of care towards the hostage and had given up using him as bargaining, instead effectively holding them between them as a meat shield.

‘One wrong move and he’s dead!’ he spat. Michael raised an eyebrow as he thrust forward with his sword, the leader only just managing to pull them both away in time. _Does this idiot not realise he’s killing him?_

Truly, the hostage had been clawing at the vice grip around his throat the whole time, face purpling in colour and tongue lolling. Strangled gasps were sounding when the grip was accidentally loosened, but the sheer force being applied was effectively blocking off his wind pipe.

Michael gritted his teeth and swung his sword down and over the shorter man’s shoulders, embedding about an each deep into the leaders collarbone. In response he let out a yowl of pain and tried to twist away, and with a loud _snap_ the neck of the hostage he’d been holding was broken.

There was a moment of silence before Michael grimaced and drew his sword back, not even hesitating before bringing it down in the skull of the leader.

Another sickening _crack,_ another life gone.

The silence of the chilly night air was punctuated only by the sounds of Gavin’s breathing, which was beginning to quicken. Michael knelt down beside the bodies and began quickly patting them down, searching them for anything of value or use.

By the time he stood back up again, empty handed bar his coins and a few extra, Gavin’s breathing had escalated into drawn, ragged breaths. Michael spun around, a curse on his lips and came face to face with an ashen, terrified Gavin.

‘Gavin?’ he asked, his voice squeaking at the end.

‘They’re dead, Michael,’ Gavin murmured, and lifted his eyes to meet Michael's. ‘They just died in front of me.’

He seemed to be running short of breath, trying to draw big breaths on top of lungs full of air and fuck, Michael was no medic but he knew a panic attack when he saw one.

‘Gavin,’ he said again, moving closer tentatively. He reached out a comforting hand and placed it onto Gavin’s shoulder, wary of the outcome. Gavin had just seen him put a sword through a man’s skull, for Christ sake, and Michael had no idea how he'd react. But the action seemed to calm him for a moment, taking him away from the edge he was precariously perched on.

‘They’re all dead, Michael,’ Gavin said again, ‘and they’re bleeding, and there’s blood everywhere on the ground and on me and you’re-’ His breath hitched. ‘You’re covered in it,' he said, his voice barely audible, and his breathing quickly escalated again.

Michael took a moment to wipe his face, his sleeve coming away covered with more blood than he remembered getting on him before he quickly dropped to his knees next to Gavin.

‘Hey,' he murmured, trying for soothing and gentle. He cleared his throat. ‘It’s okay.’

He was completely at a loss, and he was searching for more words when he heard Gavin start talking again.

‘They’re all dead, all of them- I saw the life in his eyes go out, and his face went purple and he was staring at me, staring straight at me and his eyes were begging me and I tried to save him but I’m useless-‘ he cut off as he began to cough harshly, choking on his own spit with the force and fury of his words. ‘I’m useless, always useless, too late _-_ ‘

Michael reached out and wrapped his arms around the trembling man, trying to convey a sense of comfort. 

‘-staring at me and their eyes are still open-’

Michael pulled Gavin further into him, a hand coming up to gently cover his eyes. ‘It’s okay,' he soothed again, lost and helpless, but Gavin got the message and shut his mouth. Eventually, his breathing subsided into acceptable levels, but the tremors rocking him were massive, shaking the lithe man’s entire form.

‘It’s alright, it’s okay, dude,' he said, bringing a hand up to run it gently through Gavin’s hair. _To calm him down. ‘_ Nothing’s gunna hurt you.’

‘M not scared for me, Michael.’ Gavin whispered, hands fisting tightly into the folds of Michael’s jacket. The ache in his chest and the shock from what he’d witnessed was racking through him, taking its toll on his voice, making it come out strange and broken.

‘I tried to save them. I swear. I tried, Michael, I tried so hard but I couldn’t,’ he sobbed, burying his face into Michael’s jacket, trembling violently. He didn’t get a response besides a few more murmured words of quiet comfort, sweet nothings whispered soothingly in his ear.

It didn’t take long for the discomfort to prove too much and Michael began to pull away, but the look Gavin shot him was full of fear and betrayal and had Michael moving back in, pulling them down into a sleeping position, Gavin resting his head on Michael’s chest and Michael with his arms wrapped around him.

Michael wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Gavin shaking apart in his arms as Michael stroked his hair and whispered to him, trying to ignore exactly what was happening while at the same time cherishing how it felt to just _hold_ him, but eventually he began to fall asleep, his eyes drifting shut. He was awoken by a thumb ghosting over his cheekbone, tracing his face, and he thought Gavin thought he was asleep because he was touching him and he’d never touch Michael without his permission.

The last thing he remembered before he slipped back into unconsciousness, lulled by Gavin’s warm hands and gentle motions, was Gavin blinking up at him, his hand fisted over Michael’s heart and the whispered promise of ‘I tried to save them, Michael, I really did.’.

Michael didn’t know who he was talking about anymore.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a chapter to add a little light, and to pre-introduce someone i wish could've been in the entire fucking story.
> 
> your comments are forever loved more than you know, and ill update more frequently because I'm not being bounced between countries.  
> also because I'm hell excited for the next few chapters. 
> 
> as always, read & review, yo

‘I don’t think that’s your business, Michael,’ Gavin said, gently shaking the older man’s hand off his shoulder.

Michael spluttered. ‘The fuck you mean it’s not my business?’

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d noticed Gavin had been avoiding his hints, but he’d never thought he’d outright refuse to answer the question, not in a million years. After all it'd taken him to finally fucking ask, and this was what Gavin said?

The two of them had been going through the morning quietly, last night weighing heavily on both their minds despite the lack of talking about it. Michael had tied the rope around him as usual, pretty much out of pure habit by now, and finished packing up the camp. He’d looked over to tell Gavin to get moving when he saw the man staring down at his hands, examining them as if they didn’t belong to him, as if Michael couldn’t see the blood staining them. And when he’d cleared his throat, Gavin had looked up at him and jerked his hands away guiltily, looking as if he was ashamed to be caught doing it. They’d stared at each other for a good few seconds, the fake smile Gavin was directing at him looking more and more strained, and when Gavin had dropped the smile and moved to walk away Michael had snapped.

‘I’m not taking you another step until you tell me what happened,’ he’d demanded, spinning Gavin around to face him and crossing his arms.

Gavin had blinked at him, obviously taken aback, before he’d shaken his head and quickly forced a laugh. ‘Come off it,’ he’d said, nudging Michael with his elbow. ‘Surely your memory ain’t that bad?’

But Michael had had none of it, refusing to move an inch. ‘Tell me,’ he’d said.

Gavin had swallowed, eyes darting nervously, and that had sealed the deal for Michael. He was going to get to the bottom of this. ‘Well, you and I were almost asleep, and these four silly-’

‘Gavin,’ Michael had said, but this time, he reached out. ‘Please. I can’t do this, for the love of God. _Tell me_ _what happened._ ’

Gavin’s response had been less than satisfactory and well, here they were.

‘I mean what I said,’ Gavin replied, and he had the balls- the audacity- to wink at him. As if Michael wasn’t trying to save his goddamn _life_ , not to mention his own fucking sanity.

‘It’s absolutely my business!’ Michael cried. ‘I’m your hunter! I’m the one who came all the way out there and dragged you back! Don’t you think I deserve to know if the man I’m leading to death is _innocent?!_ ’

Gavin shook his head slowly. ‘How many others have you asked, Michael?’ he questioned, smiling sadly at him.

Michael felt the force of his statement hit him hard in the gut, and he almost took a step back. He didn’t, but he didn’t reply in time, either.

‘Exactly,’ Gavin said, reading his silence for what it was. ‘Why should I be any different?’

Michael gaped at him. ‘You know why,’ he managed, and it sounded pitiful even to his own ears. Gavin shook his head again, another smile – not a proper smile, nothing compared to the light of his natural grin, such a rip off it should be goddamn _illegal_.

He went to speak when Michael did first.

‘Gavin, please. You’re driving me fucking crazy. I don’t know what’s going on anymore, and I just-’ he cut himself off, and Gavin’s heart twisted as he watched Michael go to lengths to calm himself down, nails digging into his palms and breathing measured, ‘I have to know. You don’t know what you’re doing to me.’

Gavin opened his mouth but was cut off yet again.

‘Ever since I met you, when you had your stupid grin and no fucking jacket and you couldn’t light a fire and you didn’t give a fuck when I caught you, you just smiled up at me and cracked stupid jokes and didn’t _care_. And I thought fine, he’s insane, he wants to repent, whatever, not my job. But now…’

He took a moment to try and regain his composure. Gavin watched on, feeling the hand around his heart squeeze tighter.

‘Now I don’t know at all. I never did, but… The first nights I ever looked at your photo, before I ever fucking _met you_ , I thought "This guy doesn’t look like a murderer." And you don’t. You don’t act like one or think like one… But you say you are.’ He looked at him, but Gavin avoided his eyes. ‘You say you are. You say you deserve to die for it, and you’re offering yourself up on a goddamn silver platter, and you refuse to acknowledge any other choice for it, yet I still can’t sleep at night.’

Another breath in, another breath out.

‘I can’t sleep, because I don’t know if you’re innocent. I’m too fucking stubborn to ask, too stupid not to. And I’m going insane. Did you kill them? Did you not? Do you just feel guilty because you didn’t save them? Why would you do it? If you’re so willing to let me kill you, why didn’t you just kill yourself? And last night, what was that all about-’

‘I was going to,’ Gavin interrupted, eyes meeting Michael’s and conveying the sincerity evident even in his tone before they darted away again.

Michael stopped, shocked. ‘You- I, what?’

‘Kill myself. I was going to. I just… didn’t know how. And then you came along, and I thought maybe, if I could enjoy the time before we arrived, then the torture at the end of it would kind of even it all out, you know?’

Michael stared at him, bile rising in his throat. He swallowed it down and forced himself to speak again. ‘I don’t… Fuck, Gavin.' His voice wavered. 'Everything, everything is pointing towards you being a murderer. Except for a few stupid instances and my fucking instinct. So I just… I’m asking you, right now. What happened?’

Gavin didn’t look at him. ‘I can’t tell you.’

 _‘Why?’_ Michael all but screamed it, his desperation and hurt and confusion and projected into the one single word.

‘Because I don’t want to have to lie to you,’ Gavin said, eyes focused not on Michael but on the ground in front of them.

‘What are you talking about, Gavin? Why won’t you just tell me?’ Michael was all but begging now, so lost in the storm of emotions that this man, with his twinkling eyes and careless nature, with his terrible secrets and his endless _love,_ had caused him.

Gavin swallowed, tears welling in his eyes. ‘You think, despite the situation, despite the evidence, that I’ve got good in me. That I’m not a monster.’ He breathed out hard and wiped furiously at his eyes. ‘And I don’t want to ruin that.’

Michael stared at him, desperately hoping he’d look up and meet his gaze. He forced his mouth to work, saying the only thing he could. ‘I don’t understand,’ he whispered, and finally Gavin looked at him.

‘I know,’ he murmured. He moved closer to Michael, raised his bound arms to tilt the smaller man’s chin up. ‘I know you don’t.’

‘Explain it to me,’ Michael begged, but Gavin just shook his head. ‘Please. I can’t do this until you explain it to me.’

Gavin shook his head again, harder. He brushed his fingertips along Michael’s cheek, ghosted along his lips. ‘No. But please, Michael.’

Michael barely forced himself to respond. ‘Please, what?’

‘Can’t we just pretend, love? For the last few days of my life, can’t we just pretend?’

Michael knew what he was asking. He was asking for him to pretend that they weren’t who they really were. He was asking for him to take him to his death but pretend he wasn’t, to pretend they were just like anyone else, to pretend they could be happy together. Just for a while.

Michael stared into eyes that held depths of pain and ached to make him better.

‘There’s a festival,’ he mumbled, after a long time, ‘on the way.’

And Gavin smiled at him, pressing his lips to Michael’s softly. ‘Perfect.’

  
\---

 

The Luna festival was, undoubtedly, one of the countries most anticipated festivals. It only came about once a year, marking the shortest day, and had big, bright tents and all the natural festival attractions that drew everyone from the nearby towns, as well as special performances and festivities particular only to it.

They were making their way through the festival slowly. It was packed, noisy, and pretty much everything they needed as a distraction from everything. It was lovely, and Gavin was itching to explore it, But despite that, Gavin still felt an ingrained nervousness about being in crowded places with Michael, a fear that had been literally beat into him after their past misadventures.

He wasn’t about to let it ruin what Michael was allowing them to have, but he couldn’t help having flashbacks bombard him every time someone brushed too close.

So when a passer-by shoved harshly past Gavin he huddled into Michael, a hand snaking out to hold to the back of Michael’s jacket. The small movement made Michael’s protective side flare, and he hesitantly wrapped an arm around Gavin’s waist.

Gavin let out a small laugh filled with wonder and awe as he tried to push his worry to the back of his mind, focusing on the comforting warmth that was Michael. ‘There’s so much stuff!’ he breathed, staring around them.

‘Yeah. Again, a festival, dude.’

‘Yeah but- _it’s a sword swallower!_ ’ he cried, interrupting whatever he’d been planning to say, and all but dragged Michael by the jacket over to the event.

A small but stocky man stood, flaming sword at the ready, and he waited in theatrical silence until he had a decent sized gathering. When he was pleased, he quickly leaned into a bow, whipping the sword through the air before he stood straight, seeming to grow another few inches from that alone.

He surveyed the crowd with a careful eye before he slowly lifted the sword, flashing a cocky grin as he raised it completely, tilted his head all the way back, and slid the sword into his open mouth and down his throat all the way to the hilt.

The crowd burst into applause, excited whispers of ‘How did he do that?’ and ‘That was amazing!’ running through the people like a wave. Michael was distracted from the man in front of him by the man next to him, and he found his attention drawn to the way the lighting flickered in Gavin’s eyes, the big childish grin on his face and the way he let out these little breathy squeaks of anticipation whenever something supposedly important happened in front of him.

Michael tore his gaze away, committing this moment with Gavin to memory as he began tugging him away. Just for this night, he told himself, he’d forget everything going on, forget who he was and who Gavin was and what they’d both done, and just let himself _pretend._

‘C’mon, there’s other stuff to see on the way past,’ he urged, and Gavin looked at him disappointedly.

‘But you won’t let me see any of it!’ he whined, trying to tug his way back to the sword swallower.

‘I won’t if you keep this up!’ Michael scolded, as if he was punishing a small child.

‘ _Mi-cool!_ ’

Well, he practically was.

Michael gave an exaggerated sigh and made a big show of rolling his eyes in defeat. ‘We can see the card stackers and whatever else you want _on the way out._ ’ He growled, tugging him harder. ‘Come on, Gavin!’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ Gavin grumbled. He was thankful, now more than ever, that Michael had temporarily removed the ropes tying the two together for the occasion. The relief Gavin felt that Michael couldn’t abuse his rope handling power (ignoring, of course, that he might not even anymore) was almost tangible.

As it was, Michael was tugging him somewhat harshly by the bandaged wrists (which had been upgraded to _proper_ bandaged, big thick white ones that meant absolutely no rope could tear his wrists anymore, a fact that he was eternally grateful for) and yanking him along the overcrowded trail.

The first time they stopped was at a crowded stall that offered an array of clothing.

‘Can I stay at the entrance?’ he murmured to Michael. The excitement of the festival had chipped at his learned nervousness of being in public now, but the idea of going into a tiny, crowded stall with only one way out was definitely not on his to do list.

Michael seemed to see this, and after searching his eyes for a moment gave a small nod, indicating for Gavin to stay where he was, and he moved forward into the stall.

Gavin hung back as far as he could, but soon the distance between the two again began to wear at him, and he saw the way Michael kept reaching back to make sure he was still there and looked surprised every time he wasn’t.

So he approached, to see Michael admiring the hooded jackets on offer with a critical eye.

‘You getting a new jacket, lad?’ Gavin asked, simply to break the quiet between the two. The constant bustling and murmurings of the crowd around them provided a distraction, but Gavin just liked to hear Michael’s voice.

‘No, you idiot. It’s for you,’ Michael replied curtly, and it took a moment for the words to sink in. By the time it did, Michael had selected a jacket and was carrying it over to the vendor.

She read out the price, and after a confirmation, Michael handed over the money and accepted the jacket, palming it off to Gavin without a second glance.

‘Michael?’ Gavin managed, bewildered. Michael shot an annoyed glare at him.

‘Do you want it or not?’ he snapped, and Gavin quickly nodded.

‘But why?’ 

‘To fucking conceal you, that’s why it has a hood, dumbass. Pull it up and over your head and you’ll be harder to recognise,’ Michael replied, looking as if there was nothing more annoying in the world at that moment than answering Gavin’s questions.

‘But it’s so nice!’ Gavin murmured in awe, turning the jacket over in his hands.

‘If you don’t want it, give it back,’ Michael said impatiently, holding his hands out for the jacket. Gavin quickly drew it in closer to his chest.

‘No!’ he cried, and began hurriedly putting it on. Michael rolled his eyes and turned away, but as he did he couldn’t help but let a small smile cross his face.

When he finished putting it on he pulled the hood down, and Michael tried to ignore the feeling that rose in his stomach at the way Gavin’s eyes peeked at him through the hair now flattened into his eyes by the hood.

‘Good?’ Michael asked, the only thing that gave away whether he cared if Gavin liked it or not.

‘It’s top! It’s insulated too!’ Gavin cheered. ‘Thanks Michael!’

‘Whatever,’ Michael dismissed, and grabbed him to lead him away from the crowds of people.

Gavin tried to ignore the heat of the hand he could feel and directed his attentions to all the stalls and markets they passed, each vendor shouting out quick one liners to try and draw them in.

Soon they out of the centre and heading out the other side. He could feel Michael start to relax as the majority of the crowd faded away, but he could see the older man stealing furtive glances at him, and after a moment of unsureness as to the reason why he realised they were coming back up to more attractions.

Gavin grinned at how well Michael knew him, and that despite who they were – he, a murderer, and Michael, a hunter- they’d managed to slip into these roles, both real and, well, _pretend_. Speaking of, he had an annoying reputation to uphold.

‘Oh, Michael, can we play the bow and arrow?’ Gavin all but demanded, pointing to a small stall that held a bored looking vendor (who perked up upon hearing her stall name) and several targets, with a couple of bows and many arrows scattered about.

Michael, although part of him wanted to play it just to show off, was about to decline anyway when suddenly Gavin was in his face, eyes big and pleading and mouth drawn into a pout.

‘You promised,’ he said childishly, and that was all the convincing it took before Michael gave in and he found himself being led by the hand to the stall. He glanced at the prices on top and quickly set down the required amount of coins, settling in to let Gavin have the first go.

Gavin looked shyly at him before stepping up and Michael was already laughing quietly at how he could imagine the situation might go. The man couldn’t even walk straight half the time. Watching him trying to use a weapon would be hilarious, if not downright catastrophic.

Gavin’s posture was all wrong but he held the bow with relatively sure hands, and the first few arrows he shot off were nearly all on target. Michael stopped chuckling and straightened up, admiring the scores with an appraising eye.

‘Not… bad,’ he muttered. Gavin turned back to him proudly, a big grin on his face, and Michael was torn between punching it off and laughing with him. ‘It was alright,’ he said, loud enough for Gavin to hear. ‘But I’ll show you how the real pros do it,’ he teased, pushing Gavin off the plate and taking his place, ignoring the indignant spluttering behind him. He cocked the bow, noting with annoyance the overly taut string and unfamiliar feel.

Regardless, the first shots he got off all hit dead centre, and he turned with a smug smirk back to Gavin, who was looking at him excitedly.

‘Ooh! Teach me!’ he squealed. Michael blinked at him.

‘What?’

‘How do you do it right? You held it all differently, like this,’ he demonstrated, after taking the bow from Michael, putting his hands in a position that mimicked Michael’s perfectly. ‘And you stood straighter…’ he mumbled, straightening to his full height and pushing his shoulders back.

‘Like this?’ he asked, smiling at Michael, and Michael had to shake himself out of his daze before he cleared his throat.

‘Um, almost. Like this,’ he said, and moved in behind Gavin. He pushed his shoulders further back and turned him slightly to the side, warm hands pressing lightly on Gavin’s waist as he showed him what he’d been trained to do to make yourself a smaller target, even though it wasn’t really necessary.

‘Your fingers are fine, so just keep the position, and it might help if you narrow your eyes because it might help you focus,’ he said, and stepped back.

Gavin shot him another smile before turning back and regaining the position instantly. He drew back and fired off, and all three hit the bulls eye.

He cheered loudly and spun around to Michael. ‘I did it!’ he cried happily.

‘Yeah you did!’ Michael cheered, taking the bow off Gavin and quickly stepping up to get his shots over with. He fired off and, as he hoped, they all hit perfectly again, and he turned back to celebrate with Gavin.

He came face to face with him, and the man clearly didn’t mind the lack of space, if the way he threw his arms around Michael in celebration spoke anything for it. Michael allowed himself to relax into the embrace for a moment before he drew back, a cocky smirk on his face.

‘Well?’ he directed to the vendor, and she rolled her eyes before gesturing to the prize choices on display.

‘We kicked so much butt,’ Gavin cheered quietly, tugging down his hood. Michael shoved him gently with one hand, still focused on the prizes.

‘Fuck it, you pick,’ he said, and Gavin positively beamed. Michael felt his stomach twist and fuck, he wanted to pretend forever.

‘There’s so many options!’ Gavin cried.

‘Dude, there’s two shelves-’

‘I’m so torn on what to pick!’

‘-and we can only choose from the one shelf because we didn’t get perfect.’

After another moment of waiting impatiently for Gavin to select one, Michael piped up again. ‘Wow. Alright seriously, hurry up and pick,’ he commanded, patience waning, but he couldn’t help but turn a little red when Gavin made a teasing jab at his impatience.

Though maybe the way Gavin smiled at him had something to do with it, too.

‘That one, please,’ Gavin said to the lady, pointing to what looked to be a home-stitched beanie. The lady pulled it down and handed it off to him without a word before settling back down in her chair and looking bored again already.

‘Well she was nice,’ Gavin said cheerily as they began to walk away. ‘Here.’ He held the beanie out to Michael.

‘You’re kidding, right,’ Michael said flatly. ‘I let you choose and you picked something to give to me?’

‘I have a hood now, to keep me warm, and you paid heaps for it. Plus it’s thanks to you we won so it’d be mean of me to take the prize,’ Gavin said, still holding the beanie out for Michael.

After a moment Michael caved, reaching out and taking the beanie gently from Gavin’s expecting hands. He tugged it down, immediately liking the soft inside and the snug way it fit his head, and he gave Gavin a grin.

‘Nice choice,’ he said, by way of thanks, and Gavin just smiled at him.

‘I was thinking about picking the yellow and green one but I decided that’d be a chumps move.’

Michael laughed, gestured for Gavin to keep moving. Gavin moved close, hand holding gently to the back of Michael’s jacket again, and Michael couldn’t help the blush that tinted his cheeks. Heart racing like he was a teenage fucking girl, he slid his hand around and took Gavin’s hand in his. Gavin squeezed back, and they walked like that for several hours before settling down when Gavin’s tired legs kept stumbling under him.

‘I’m so glad you bought me this,’ Gavin said appreciatively, snuggling down into the jacket and tugging the hood further down as he watched Michael go about setting the fire. ‘I’d be an absolute icicle if you didn’t.’

‘Well someone has to save you from yourself. Why the hell didn’t your stupid ass have a jacket in the first place?’ Michael demanded from his position kneeling on the ground.

Gavin shrugged. ‘I didn’t have time to pack,’ he said cheekily. Michael didn’t deign to respond, instead chewing his lip thoughtfully and gazing down at the prepared fire beneath him.

‘What’re you waiting for, lad? Get firey!’ Gavin commanded.

‘Shut up,’ Michael said distractedly. ‘I’m not entirely sure setting it here is a good idea. We’re still too close to the festival, and there’s gunna be about a thousand drunken idiots and probably a few more overly cocky bandits that decide they want to fuck with the wrong people.’

‘C’mon, Michael,’ Gavin pleaded, ‘I’ll freeze.’

‘I bought you that jacket for exactly this reason, so I wouldn’t have to light a fire if I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure,’ Michael groaned, tying Gavin’s wrists together and to the tree.

‘You said it was to conceal me-’

Michael glared and Gavin quickly cleared his throat and changed tactics. ‘But it’s still really, really chilly,’ he whined, burying himself further into the jacket.

Michael couldn’t argue with that. The festival had marked the shortest day of the year, and now that night was upon them it had gotten _cold_. It was easily below freezing, and despite the precautions Michael had taken to make sure he wouldn’t have to light a fire if he was unsure, he found himself staring down at the set up beneath him.

He gave in with a groan, Gavin a cheer, and with a half-hearted whack to the smiling idiot Michael began the process of creating a spark. It didn’t take too long, the slight wind not being too much to worry about, and soon he was gently blowing on the tiny flame he’d created and nursing it to life.

‘It’s kinda cute, in a not weird way,’ Gavin began, and Michael wanted to groan again. ‘I mean, you’re so big and scary, but this is a perfect example of how you’re like a big teddy bear inside. Remember that conversation?’

‘I wish I didn’t,’ Michael sighed, slipping his pack off and setting everything out how he liked it.

‘Well, you’re all gentle and careful when you’re lighting a fire,’ Gavin pointed out. Michael gave him a look, the annoyance practically palpable, and Gavin pursed his lips, awaiting a response.

‘I’d like to see someone light a fire with big, angry movements,’ Michael replied in the end.

Gavin started to giggle. ‘It’d be funny,’ he agreed. ‘Do you think-’

‘Nope!’ Michael interrupted, cutting off that train of thought before it could begin to grow, and Gavin’s mouth pulled into a pout.

‘Michael-’ ,e began to whine, and when Michael didn’t interrupt him as he expected he looked curiously over at the auburn haired man.

Michael was chewing on his lip, attention focused inwards on some internal conflict Gavin couldn’t be a part of. Gavin frowned, uneasiness sitting heavy in his gut. Michael had had that look about him that morning, before he’d asked what Gavin had sworn he wouldn’t, and Gavin knew it didn’t bode well for him. He decided to act quickly.

‘Michael, can we stay up late tonight?’ he questioned innocently. He yawned directly afterwards, allowing the tiredness that had been creeping up on him to show on his face. ‘We can sing songs and trade stories and-’

‘Hell no,’ Michael interrupted. ‘You need sleep.’

Inwardly smiling, Gavin pouted again, making sure to stifle a yawn as he did so. ‘But I’m not-’

‘Yes you are,’ Michael interrupted again. ‘Your eyes are glazed over and you have that sleepy look about you. I know what you look like when you’re tired, Gavin,’ he said exasperatedly, and Gavin smiled gently at that. Even if his tiredness had been exaggerated for show, Michael had just named things he couldn’t have faked.

‘Night, Michael,' he said, lying down onto the bedding. He peeked through his eyelashes and saw Michael watching him, a gentle smile on his face, and Gavin couldn't help the next words that came out of his mouth. 'Thanks for pretending.’

Michael stared down at him.

A moment later Gavin’s breathing evened out into soft, gentle snores, and Michael reached over to gently brush the hair out of Gavin’s face. ‘Night, Gav,' he said quietly, emotion strangling the words, and he forced himself to lie down next to him.

They both knew it wasn’t pretending. When Gavin had gazed at him, hurting and pleading for Michael to let him be happy, just for a while, they’d both known. They were allowing themselves to indulge in what they could never have. It was just the life they could never hope for, poorly concealing the harsh reality of their situation.

Because of who they were, because of what they’d done, they could never have been together. But Gavin had asked Michael to let them pretend, and Michael had agreed.

And Christ, it hurt. The longer their temporary situation continued, the more they _pretended,_ the more Michael wanted it to be real, and the harder he fell- for Gavin, for the life he’d never have, and harder into despair at their imminent destination.

Because soon it would be over. They could only pretend for so long and soon, their peace would be shattered.

And their peace was shattered, but not how Michael had assumed- not by Gavin’s death, but by Ray’s life.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to slip back into weekly hey but it's hard when you're sleeping off what feels like death  
> all the time  
> because I'm an idiot
> 
> anyway i love you all and read & review, yo

Michael awoke to the hair on the back of his neck prickling, and he forced his eyes open a miniscule amount to survey the area around them.

Clear of threats, from what he could see. But it was dark, his body was tense and _something was wrong._

His eyes flicked to Gavin’s sleeping, oblivious form. His face was buried into the covers, something Michael was grateful for, but the ropes binding his hands together were blindingly obvious.

This was fucking _bullshit._ Who was messing with them now?

All of this flitted through Michael’s brain in the space of about a second, and he’d just noted that his sword was lying in front of him, just in reach, when he felt the muted presence of someone directly behind him.

His hand snaked out and he began to rise, only to crash back to the ground as a figure crouched on top of him. His sword was kicked out of his reach and his hand was crushed under the foot of the intruder and he couldn’t help but let out a muffled yell.

Gavin twitched, still fast asleep but beginning to awaken.

The figure on him had his dagger to Michael’s throat lightning fast, had him in a kneeling position with his arms yanked painfully behind his back a second later. Not even pausing to feel shock at how easily he’d been overpowered, Michael snarled and began to thrash.

Gavin woke up, rolling over and focusing tiredly on what was in front of him. Michael felt the man on top of him freeze mid-way through securing Michael’s hands together.

‘Ah,’ the man said, clearing his throat, ‘this is awkward.’

At his voice Gavin perked up, pulling himself into a sitting position with a confused look that cleared after a second and left him staring somewhat excitedly up at the man perched effortlessly on Michael’s back.

 ‘Hey, X-Ray,’ Gavin greeted, smiling sleepily. Michael’s breathing stuttered.

‘Heya Vav,’ the man – X-Ray, what the _fuck?_  – replied. ‘Um, how’s it going?’ he asked, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

‘Oh, you know. Not too bad. What you doing here?’ Gavin asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking at his friend curiously.

‘Oh. I was, uh, gunna rob you. But I guess I can’t do that now.’ He laughed, a short laugh, and Michael finally found his voice.

‘You two know each other?’ he asked flatly, dread filling him as he spoke.

‘Yeah, Michael, this is Ray. Ray, Michael. Michael, Ray,’ Gavin introduced, nodding at each in turn. Ray hopped lightly off Michael and onto the ground, laughing cheekily.

‘Ray Narvaez II, assassin, RR Brotherhood at your service,’ he said, bowing, a smile playing on his lips.

Michael stared. _The RR Brotherhood?_ That rang some bells. It was an assassin’s clan notorious for being the elite and leaving little folded red roses on top of their victims to signify their victory.

‘Yes yes, very cool, he’s an assassin,’ Gavin said dismissively. ‘So what brings you through here?’

‘Oh, you know. Catching up with some old friends,’ Ray replied vaguely.

Since struggling was getting him nowhere fast, Michael took the opportunity to consider his options, and after a moment of eyeing the ground he began to rub the rope against a rock to split it.

‘I wouldn’t bother with that,’ Ray supplied helpfully, ‘you’re not getting out of those.’

Michael just swore and otherwise ignored him.

‘Cool. Now that that’s out of the way, mind telling me why you’re all tied up there, Vav?’ Ray asked, raising an eyebrow delicately.

‘Oh, about that. I’ve been charged with murder and hunted across a couple states. Michael here got me and was taking me back to kill me,’ Gavin replied, as if he was talking about the weather and not his imminent death.

Ray paused a moment before beginning to laugh. ‘Man, that’s a new one,’ he chuckled. A second later he frowned. 'Why didn't I hear of this?' he murmured to himself, looking at Gavin. Gavin shrugged, and Ray did the same a second later. 'I've been underground a long time. Still, I'll be sure to pay attention whenever I'm away from you from now on.'

Gavin laughed quietly. Ray began to make his way over, humming lightly as he began to untie the ropes. Gavin allowed it, but as soon as he was standing and his wrists were free he shook his head and turned to Ray.

‘I can’t go,' he said, and Ray stopped to look at him bewilderment.

‘And why not?’

Gavin looked at the ground, swallowing audibly. ‘Because. I’ve got some… stuff. Here. To do.’

Ray looked unimpressed, but at the same time concern was becoming apparent on his face. He raised an eyebrow in wordless encouragement and put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. Gavin immediately dropped the façade and began to shake, almost as if that simple touch had broken his walls, as if that all he had been craving was that comfort.

‘I have to let him take me back, Ray,’ Gavin said.

Ray snorted. ‘You’re kidding, right,’ he asked flatly. Gavin shook his head and Ray frowned at him. ‘Vav. C’mon, what the fuck, dude? What’s up?’

Michael was watching them both, the only thing conveying his intense interest being the slight widening of his eyes. Ray spared a glance at him and frowned, the tell shining like a beacon to him, and he flicked his eyes back to Gavin before they narrowed.

‘Gavin, you’re not a murderer,’ he stated. Gavin didn’t respond and Ray looked noticeably more concerned. ‘What’s up, seriously?’

‘Ray…’

‘Oh, come on, I know you. You’re not a-’

‘Don’t,’ Gavin interrupted, eyes on the ground as he spoke.

Ray narrowed his eyes. ‘Gavin?’

‘You should go.’

‘Listen, I don’t know what this guy’s brainwashed you with, but I know you and I know you’re not a murderer.’

‘Please, Ray, just go-’

‘Come on, dude, you’re talking to a fucking assassin! I have instincts about this shit, and they’re all telling me the same thing: You’re not a killer, dude. Also, _I’ve_ killed a lot of people. I’m the last one who’s gunna judge you.’

Gavin opened his mouth and closed it a second later, looking utterly lost. After a long moment of staring at him Ray narrowed his eyes and grabbed him by the shoulder, leading him away from the hunter, far enough so they could talk in private.

Well aware he should be using this time to escape, Michael resumed struggling fruitlessly. Fruitlessly, because a few minutes later when Gavin and Ray returned, Gavin red eyed and Ray looking significantly more solemn then when he’d left, he was no closer to escaping.

Surprisingly, for a moment, that wasn’t his first concern. He couldn’t look away from their faces, trying his best to read them while they were so raw. Ray’s expression suggested Gavin wasn’t all too innocent. He looked pained, upset, and he kept glancing over to the foreign man, an expression Michael couldn’t name becoming prominent on his face.

In the chaos of his mind, he realised that if Ray wasn’t bothering to hide anything from him, it meant he was out of the picture one way or another. But he couldn’t bring himself to worry, just for that moment, because he couldn’t look away from Gavin.

Michael hadn’t admitted it, but he’d been holding out hope. Fuck, he knew he had been, ever since he couldn’t bring himself to let it go. And Gavin had actually done it. He dimly realised Gavin was starting to gather his stuff. It took a second for that realisation to settle in, but before he could react Ray was squeezing Gavin’s shoulder and saying something to him.

‘Time to go, Gav.’

This brought Michael back into the real world, and his head snapped up to meet Gavin’s gaze with a cry. ‘No!’

Gavin stopped and turned to him, quirking him a wry, uncertain smile. ‘Sorry, Michael,’ he said, and he’d be damned if Gavin didn’t legitimately look sorry about it.

Michael found his mouth dry and he was at a loss for words. What was he meant to say? What could you say to a murderer to convince them to let you take them to their death? A murderer that you loved and who’d loved you-

You couldn’t. There was nothing.

‘Gavin-’ he croaked, as the man’s smile dropped and he turned away. ‘Don’t go,' he pleaded, hating himself for sounding so desperate but terrified the man would get away. Not now, when he was so close. Not after everything they’d been through.

Gavin murmured something as he quickly finished rifling through Michael’s pack for anything he might need. He stopped before he laughed quietly, a sad sound, and straightened when Ray put a fleeting hand on his shoulder.

‘I was looking for my book,’ he said in explanation. Before Michael could say a word Ray interrupted.

‘Time to go, Vav, let’s go,’ he urged, glancing with narrowed eyes at Michael.

‘Gavin, no,’ Michael countered, trying to make his voice calm and sound like he was in control. It clashed badly with the way he was still kneeling in the dirt, hands tied securely behind him. ‘Don’t.’ This time it was pleading, voice cracking.

Gavin gave a sad laugh. ‘So you can kill me? Maybe if…’ he trailed off. ‘But we both know you’d kill me, if I came back to you right now.’

‘But you _wanted_ me to! You said you wanted to! _You killed them!_ ’

At this Gavin glanced at Ray, looking like he was about to cry, and Ray stepped forward with fabric in his hands. ‘One more word,’ he murmured. His words were softly spoken but the threat in them may as well have been broadcast across the universe.

Gavin stepped forward and wrapped a hand around Ray’s bicep, tugging him back.

‘But I don’t understand,’ Michael said, and Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face in an effort to keep composure.

‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ he said, turning away. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He began tugging Ray behind him as they made to leave.

Michael choked on his words as he tried to stop them, tried to say anything. His eyes were prickling and he cursed himself for everything; for being so damn useless, for letting his guard down, for letting Ray take Gavin, for being such a fucking _idiot._

‘Gavin,’ he said, and Gavin turned to him once more, eyes shining suspiciously. Ray took his hand in wordless encouragement, murmuring something that made Gavin straighten just the tiniest bit.

‘Sorry, Michael,’ Gavin said quietly, a sad smile crooked on his face, ‘I guess I'm not meant to die just yet.’

Ray used their linked hands to tug Gavin away, and they quickly started running.

Running.

Running from Michael.

Michael felt his breath hitch and catch in his chest as he was left kneeling in the dirt, watching without words as the protective assassin and the man who’d become his entire life disappeared from view completely.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i died like 10000 times from all the fucking awesome comments you all left me last time  
> at least  
> seriously  
> you guys are fucking amazing thank you all so much <33333
> 
> read & review, yo

When Michael blinked himself out of his daze and scratched the ropes enough that he could effectively break them off, the sun wasn’t far from rising. He knew pursuing Gavin and Ray would be useless, one of them was an _assassin_ for fucks sake, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

In fact, he wanted nothing more. To hunt them down and take Gavin back, hand him in for a sweet reward and slit Ray’s fucking _throat_ for taking him away.

But deep down, he just wished he could have Gavin back.

Pushing that thought well into the confines of his mind, Michael straightened, sending one last lingering look in their direction before turning back to his camp.

He was halfway through repacking everything before he crumpled. He had no idea what he was doing, where he was going to go.

He couldn’t just return empty handed, but there was no way he’d find Ray. The silence was deafening, the space pressing in around him so painfully _empty_ that he raised a shaking hand before he formed it into a fist and punched the tree nearest him.

‘Fuck!’ he cursed, rage coursing through him, deliciously bitter and with all the right hints of pain, of longing, of hurt and regret and a sorrow that ran deeper than his blood.

_He missed him._

He shouldn’t miss him. He was a murderer.

Yet he missed him.

And he wasn’t getting him back.

The knowledge rocked Michael to his core, his insides boiling, his hands itching to wrap around someone’s throat, preferably Gavin’s but he wasn’t _here-_

Michael cried out before grabbing his head with both hands and dropping to his knees.

Gavin was gone, gone, gone. He’d been whisked away a days walk from their destination, his loss so resounding even the birds weren’t calling. Which was probably a good thing, because Michael would have snapped their necks himself. Instead he made do with dragging himself into a standing position, whole body aching with shame and failure at the knowledge he’d have to return home, return to Geoff empty handed with the news that he’d been jumped by a fucking assassin after going through so much to get them back.

The tree really didn’t deserve those extra punches, but it released the anger brewing inside him a tiny bit, and the red curtain faded momentarily to inform him he’d probably just broken his goddamn hand.

Michael couldn’t even find it in him to curse, simply drawing out a bandage and wrapping it around his hand with a defeated sigh, his mood only blackening further with the way the bandage reminded him of Gavin, of the shy smile he gave him when Michael wrapped them around his wrists-

The tears prickling at his eyes caught him by surprise, but further went ignored in favour of gathering his remaining shit and beginning the seemingly eternal trek back. In reality, it would only be a day, but Michael couldn’t see a single reason in the foreseeable future that would make his journey any better.

Or his arrival.

Or his days after.

What did Michael have now?

He’d failed his mission, lost his bounty, disappointed Geoff and Burnie, probably become the laughing stock of the town, and all he had to go home to was an empty house with no one there to greet him, no big nose and excited eyes and clumsy hands that would wrap themselves around him and perpetually half-laughing voice that would call his name in that foreign accent of his.

_You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone._

Nothing, that was what. But he picked up his pack and began to walk.

* * *

 

 

He’d been home for about two hours, just staring into his fireplace as the sun set and the moon rose overhead.

He knew Geoff was aware of his arrival, as news of an empty handed Michael returning and shutting himself in his house would have been sure to spread like wildfire. He didn’t care, though. He didn’t care about very much at all.

He did care, however, about the insistent knocking that had started up about a minute ago. He knew it was Geoff, but he couldn’t bring himself to find the energy to get off the couch and open the door. Eventually, though, he did, because the knocking was only worsening his headache.

Geoff came in, sat down on the couch with a sigh. ‘Didn’t go well then, huh?’

Michael snorted. Understatement of the motherfucking century.

‘Wanna tell me what happened?’ Geoff asked, sounding more like a father at his kids break up than boss with a considerable bounty loss. Michael shook his head. ‘C’mon. I gotta give something back to Burnie.’ He said, and he sounded truly sorry about it, as if he’d rather let Michael mourn in peace than disturb him so.

‘He had… connections,’ Michael said, speech stilted. ‘In the RR Brotherhood.’ The name left a sour taste in his mouth, but Geoff straightened considerably.

‘He has affiliations?’ he questioned, mouth twisting into a frown.

‘Just the one, I think. Childhood friend.’

Geoff nodded. ‘And he was tracking you the whole time?’

Michael looked up at him with a start. ‘No.’ He shook his head, mouth quirking into a wry smile. ‘He stumbled upon us,’ he said drily, and saw Geoff raise an eyebrow. ‘After the moon festival last night. Just walked right on up to us. He was going to mug us, but he recognised Gavin… The two seemed pretty close. He freed him and off they went.’

Geoff knew better than to ask why Michael didn’t stop them, but Michael saw the unvoiced query. ‘He tied me up first. Ga-Free was still tied, so he knew he wouldn’t be a problem, and just…’ he trailed off. ‘He just took him away.’

Geoff chewed on his lower lip. ‘This was last night?’ he repeated, and he winced when Michael nodded. ‘That’s tough. But you know, Michael, we don’t hold it against you. It’s absolutely not your fault someone got away from you. It had to happen eventually.’

‘No, it didn’t,’ Michael hissed. ‘I just failed to-’

‘Michael, how many people have you brought back for me over the years?’ Geoff interrupted, eyes narrowed. Michael didn’t need to think about it.

’Twenty six.’

’Twenty six,’ Geoff repeated, letting it sink in. ‘And not one before this have you let get away. That averages out to…’ His brow crinkled as he thought, but quickly gave up. ‘A few a year. I don’t know. You’re the fastest, most efficient, most reliable hunter we have. I trust you with my life, and one bounty getting away doesn’t change that. I know it’s hard, but we’ve all lost people before. If you want, you can go back out there and-’

‘No!’ Michael interrupted, eyes averted. ‘No,’ he repeated quietly, ‘I can’t.’ It was the absolute truth. He was mentally exhausted, and in no shape to even think about Gavin again. Let alone hunting him, and all the problems surrounding it.

Geoff shifted. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ he asked plainly. Michael laughed at this, a soft, dry laugh that seemed devoid of happiness.

‘No, Geoff. Everything’s fine.’ And with that he stood and walked out the door, not even waiting to usher Geoff out of his own home first.

Everything’s fine.

 

* * *

 

To Geoff’s credit, he had tried to postpone the debriefing as long as possible, but it had to happen eventually. It was with a sad smile and a hot cup of coffee that he woke Michael, offering each respectively before backing off and letting the boy have his space.

When he re-entered five minutes later and found Michael staring at the coffee, he said nothing, but a worried frown creased his forehead. He just helped him up, threw clothes at him and left again, relieved when Michael exited five minutes later dressed but still expressionless.

‘Just tell him what you told me, with details,’ Geoff offered, even though Michael knew the drill. He knew Burnie wasn’t going to hold against him losing Gavin, but it didn’t make the sting any less. And it certainly made the Gavin shaped hole in him a little bigger.

‘Yeah, Geoff,’ Michael said, swigging from his coffee. He frowned at it before entering the kitchen and taking out a flask of bourbon, silently adding some. While Geoff was in the bathroom, he quickly refilled the flask to the brim and tucked it safely in his pocket, downing his coffee and preparing to leave.

When Geoff emerged Michael was standing by the door, hands in pockets and patented ‘I don’t care’ expression in place. Geoff just exited behind him, and they began their walk to Achievement Hunter’s headquarters.

A quarter of a flask of bourbon, two suspicious glances and a short walk later they’d arrived, and headed straight on up to the familiar office that was Burnie’s.

‘Hey,’ Burnie greeted, gesturing to the seats in front of him. He was dressed casually, feet up on the desk as he sipped from his own mug of coffee. ‘I know it’s fucking early, but I thought we might as well get this over with, right?’ he offered, smiling at Michael.

 _Why is everyone treating me like a goddamn girl in a breakup?_ Michael thought, anger flashing through him before he sighed wearily, taking a sip from his flask and taking a seat.

‘Just start from the beginning?’ he asked, even though the answer was obvious, and he didn’t wait for a response before he launched into his explanation. He led them through his quick journey to find him, recounting the storms and the places he stayed, briefly mentioning the names of those who had helped him and skipping lightly over the majority of his walking time. He got up to entering the plains, finding the first tracks and finally stumbling upon Free before his voice cracked.

_His tall, lean form stretching up, bathed in the golden sun as he glowed-_

It went unnoticed, thankfully, and he cleared his throat before continuing. He danced over the meeting, simply saying he’d held him at swordpoint and secured him, taking them through his journey. He didn’t even question the intelligence of not telling them about the conversations and what went on between he and Gavin, surmising that it was none of their damn business.

He spoke of getting seen the two times it happened, didn’t tell them he beat the shit out of him, certainly didn’t tell them about the crushing guilt he’d harboured every time the man winced or drew in a pained gasp or flinched away from him. He hovered on his sickness, simply saying the man had taken care of him, ignoring the raised eyebrows between Geoff and Burnie. He skipped over to the bandits attack, saying he’d killed them all and they’d escaped unharmed, and got to the night he lost Gavin before he stopped, words caught in his mouth and refusing to budge.

‘Michael?’ Burnie prompted, sharing a look with Geoff.

Michael swallowed heavily and nodded, shaking hands clasped tightly in his grip, annoyed beyond all hell at the ridiculous notion that he was so upset over this, over-

Over Gavin.

‘I had him tied up as usual, to a tree, and we set up camp. We’d just come from the festival so I was wary of setting up but Ga- But I decided that the risk was worth it.’ He swallowed again. ‘At some point of the night I woke up, became aware of a presence behind me, and reached for my sword. Ray – the assassin, stepped on my hand and kicked my sword out of reach, tying me up. Gavin woke up then, and recognised him, because the first words out of his goddamn mouth were ‘Hey, X-Ray.’’

Nobody commented on how worked up Michael was getting, on how his hands were clenched into fists and his teeth were grit together. ‘Then the asshole introduces him, says they’re friends, and fucking unties Gavin so they could leave, and he did.’ Michael was breathing hard, rage practically swirling around him.

‘He did,’ Michael hissed, hands fumbling for his flask.

‘And they fucking left me kneeling in the dirt.’

There was silence as his story came to an end, Geoff putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He knew what it was like to lose a bounty, but never so close to home, and never one he’d travelled so far to get. And he’d certainly never been left with the mental fuck that being left tied up and kneeling in the dirt would have caused.

Honestly, he could understand why Michael was so unbelievably, incredibly angry.

He just didn’t understand why he was sad.

Yeah, Geoff could sense it, could sense it a mile away, from the way Michael's shoulders slumped defeatedly instead of being held straight in pure anger. Geoff had known the boy for years, ever since he was just a squid, and he’d raised him into the man he was today.

So he knew when something was up, that was for sure. Daddy Geoff instincts were at DEFCON 1, and he was getting some answers as soon as Burnie released him.

‘Well, Michael, I think that’s it.’ Burnie clapped his hands together twice, and Geoff could have kissed him for not pushing the obviously uncomfortable boy. ‘If you have anything to add or remember anything important, just come straight on up.’

Michael nodded and stood silently, not questioning the man's final words. Geoff followed his lead, quickly slapping hands with Burnie before he followed the sullen man out. As soon as they were out of hearing distance Geoff turned to Michael.

‘You know I know something’s up,’ he said, getting straight to the point. It was something Michael had always respected him for, but he really wished right now he’d just go away so Michael could drown his demons in peace.

‘Geoff, don’t. Please,’ was all Michael said, turning the full force of his sombre stare onto Geoff, who shied away moments later with his hands up in surrender.

‘Fine. But you know, my house is empty tonight. You could come over, we could have a night like we used to,’ Geoff prompted, a small smile on his face.

Michael hated disappointing Geoff, hated hurting him or letting him down, so it killed him to reject the offer. ‘No, thanks,’ he said, staring determinedly at the floor and internally wincing when he felt Geoff deflate a little next to him.

‘It’s not because I don’t want to, or I didn’t like it or anything. I just… I’m dog tired, like down to the bone. I think I’m gunna sleep for the next however long.’ Michael offered a wry smile. ‘Seriously, Geoffy, you’re like my dad, I fuckin’ love quality time with you. Just not when I’m about to keel over,’ he said, and Geoff perked right back up.

‘Ah, it’s all good. I’ve had those days.’

‘Anyway, I’m sure Griffon would have liked a heads up this time if we were gunna burn down her shed again,’ Michael joked, earning a laugh from Geoff.

‘Dude, she didn’t cuddle me for like a month,’ Geoff whined.

‘Of course you’re more worried about abstaining from affection than abstaining from sex,’ Michael laughed, rolling his eyes. Geoff threw his arms open, eyebrows raised.

‘You know me, the big teddy bear,’ he snorted. ‘But really, you know you’re welcome home anytime. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever. ’

Michael nodded. ‘I know,’ he replied quietly. ‘Thanks, Geoff.’

‘No problem. Come home if you need.’ And with that offer and a small parting wave, Geoff headed off.

‘Home,’ Michael repeated, almost silently, the word echoing in his mind and resounding in his heart with painful memories of cheeky smiles and flushed cheeks.

He climbed into bed that night, ready to wake up and try to face the rest of his life without Gavin. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short, sweet, and maybe not so sweet i guess  
> at least it was posted early? *weak laughter*  
> if you don't hate me you should add me on psn, x_omnom_x  
> and you guys are AMAZING, thank you all <3
> 
> read & review, yo
> 
> *EDIT:  
> for those who might be wondering, I'm not writing drama for dramas sake- everything leads up to something. it's aaall planned out

Michael peeked blurry eyes open, wondering why he was waking up at this strange hour of the night. A quick glance outside showed the sun was actually risen, giving it at least two or three hours until midday.

This all clicked in his mind as he searched for a reason for his awakening, instinctively knowing there was a difference between waking up naturally and this. It was like there was an unknown presence here in his house, but it wasn’t registering as a threat.

It was as if -

‘So you’re awake, then?’ a familiar voice asked cheerily, and Michael found himself unable to move. ‘Oh – you aren’t?’ The voice sounded disappointed, and a moment later a big nose in front of big green eyes was in Michael’s view, and he instantly jerked back and shoved his hands out in a primitive form of defence.

A small ‘oof!’ came from where Gavin landed on the hard ground, but he was bouncing back up again a moment later, the only thought given to his little escapade being the quick rub he gave to his lower back.

‘Definitely awake then,’ the voice teased and finally, Michael found himself able to respond.

He opened his mouth -

and punched Gavin in the face.

The man staggered away, hand to his mouth, but quickly straightened again, cheeky grin firmly in place. ‘Well hello to you too!’ he exclaimed, but lowered his voice and glanced around.

‘What-’ Michael managed, fist still clenched. The punch had been out of shock more than anything, violence being the main way Michael knew how to express himself.

‘I came back for you, silly. Isn’t it obvious?’ The statement was accompanied by a wink, and it was all Michael could do not to punch him in his stupid face again. Instead, he pulled him into an embrace, fists grabbing onto cloth – the jacket he had bought him – as if Gavin would disappear at any moment.

Gavin returned the embrace with a chuckle. ‘What are you doing here?’ Michael demanded, pulling back, hands still twisted in Gavin’s jacket.

‘I just told you,’ Gavin laughed lightly.

‘But how- why?’ 

‘Because. And easy, I just walked on in. No guards or anything, which was weird.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Kind of expected it to be like, teeming with hunters.’ He admitted. ‘See, there’s a defence problem right there. You really need to post-’

‘What are you doing here?’ Michael interrupted again. Gavin, unfazed, just smiled at him some more.

‘I told you, I came back for you.’

‘For me?’

‘I couldn’t very well just leave you there-’

‘Where’s Ray?’ Michael demanded. Gavin averted his gaze.

‘Don’t you worry about Ray.’ He said mysteriously, but Michael was having none of it.

‘Did you kill him?’ He asked, and finally garnered a reaction from the frozen man. 

‘I – What?’ The hurt that flashed across Gavin’s features was all too real but went unseen through Michael's unfocused eyes, his mind reeling about _what this meant._

‘No, I don’t – I didn’t –I wouldn't!’ Gavin said, as if he couldn’t possibly _fathom_ where Michael got that idea. ‘Michael-’ At this moment, he realised Michael was still holding tight, and for the first time he began to get unnerved.

‘Michael, let me go,’ he said quietly, pulling back to no avail. Michael was lost in his thoughts, hands stuck in an iron grip on Gavin’s jacket. ‘Michael.’ Gavin raised his voice and Michael snapped to attention.

_He’s here._

‘Michael-’

‘You’re here.’ The happiness (for Gavin, at least) of the reunion was shattered by the seething resentment in Michael’s voice. ‘You’re here.’ he repeated, head shooting up to meet Gavin’s gaze. ‘You fucking _idiot!_ ’

He shoved Gavin against the wall with a double handed push before stepping in front of him, barring any attempts at escape. ‘You came back! What the fuck is wrong with you?!’ He demanded, eyes wild. ‘You were _free!_ Gone! You were fucking safe, and you came _back?’_

‘I-’

‘You left me there, got away and then you came _back?_ ’ He lifted Gavin off the wall and slammed him back into it, once, twice, three times. ‘Why?!’ 

‘Michael, you’re hurting me-’

‘You were fucking safe!’ Michael cried, pulling back from Gavin as if he’d burned him. ‘You got away, damn it, but you were fucking _safe._ I was just beginning to… I could just… And you- You realise what…’ He trailed off, pain crossing his features.

‘Maybe I should-’ Gavin started, beginning to regret coming. Michael was scaring him, angry and violent and for the life of him Gavin couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But he saw the pain on Michael’s face and his first thought was to make it better.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ he soothed, pulling Michael into an embrace gently, leaving him time to react. He was surprised when, instead of pulling away, Michael leaned into the embrace and wrapped his arms tightly around Gavin.

Gavin smiled, clutching back just as tightly. Maybe it would be okay.

But when he pulled back Michael was crying, silent tears overflowing and running down his cheeks.

‘Michael?’ Gavin asked, ducking down to see the smaller man’s face, but Michael wouldn’t meet his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, and that was the last thing Gavin saw before Michael’s fist connected with his face and he blacked out. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got really excited to post this last night and then i forgot I'M SORRY 
> 
> also I wasn't lying when I said he turned him in, i hope I crush all of your dreams  
> (i love you guys so much tho)
> 
> as always, read & review, yo

Michael woke up, drenched in sweat. His hands were clenched in fists and he was panting heavily, and he didn’t even have a split second of relief before he was drowning in guilt, sorrow, and judging by the three quarter empty bottle on the bedside table next to him, alcohol.

He grimaced at the vile taste as he took his first sip of the morning, not even one minute into proper coherence. He rubbed his still bleary eyes and forced himself into a sitting position, glaring half-heartedly at the sunlight pouring in through the office window.

Distantly, he heard screaming.

Michael bent double as his entire body rebelled, stomach heaving and tears immediately welling in his eyes as if it knew the sound he was hearing was wrong wrong _wrong._ He clutched at his head in a useless attempt to block it out. Geoff, who’d been on angel duty since the incident, hovered worriedly. He reached out to take the bottle but Michael shied away, clutching it as he shot Geoff a desperate look.

‘Michael, you can’t keep this up,’ Geoff tried gently, an authoritative tone to his voice.

‘It’s been two days, Geoff,' Michael stated, his voice cracking.

‘Yeah, two days and you look like someone killed your mother,’ Geoff shot back.

Michael raised an eyebrow at his indelicate choice of words, shooting a glare at the other man. In return Geoff rolled his eyes, uncaring for his faux pas and choosing to pursue his point. ‘You won’t talk to me, fine. But you’re sitting here, listening to someone get tortured, and you’re destroying yourself with it.’

He gestured to the alcohol bottles.

‘And this.’

At that Michael stood, but all the fight was gone from him and the tension quickly dissipated from the air. ‘I can’t do this, Geoff,' he murmured, with the voice broken man. Geoff sat down on the couch, pulling Michael back down next to him.

‘What’s going on, Michael?’ he questioned gently, but Michael shook his head. ‘I know you’re feeling guilty,' he said, and it struck close to home. Michael murmured something that was lost to the muffling of the couch, and Geoff leaned it to hear it. ‘What?’

‘You don’t know the half of it,’ Michael repeated, voice raspy.

Geoff frowned. ‘I understand,' he insisted, 'Sometimes the job can be a bit much, and we’ve all had days where we might feel bad about this, but-’

‘Geoff,’ Michael interrupted, and something – maybe how he said it - made the man stop cold. ‘Don’t, please. I can’t right now.’

‘Why?’ Geoff asked, curiosity burning bright in his words. There was a pause, Michael swallowing hard as another short scream punctuated the air.

‘Because,’ was all he said, turning his head away, but Geoff persisted.

‘Because why?’

The silence that reigned after his questioned seemed to be the only reply Geoff was going to get, but just when he was prepared to turn away Michael spoke up again.

‘He loved me, Geoff,’ Michael said, and despite the significance of the revelation Geoff couldn’t help but feel he was missing out on something, something that Michael was specifically avoiding. But Geoff pushed that aside, focusing on the weight of the words already spoken.

‘He, uh… wow,' was all he managed, his eloquent speech abilities shining through. ‘He, uh. Hm.’

Michael snorted rather ungracefully. ‘Yeah. He came back for me.’

Geoff blew out a large breath, the implications rushing in on him. ‘You turned him in,' he said, the statement ringing in light of the new information. He didn’t miss the way Michael flinched away.

‘I turned him in,’ Michael repeated, and there was silence, where Geoff searched uselessly for something to say.

‘He killed people, Michael, you know that. It’s for the best.’ He stopped when Michael pulled violently away from him, hand clutching the bottle as if it was the last thing tethering him to this universe – his lifeline.

‘I don’t _care,_ Geoff. I _know_ it was the right thing, I _know_ it's for the best but I _don't give a fuck._ '

'Michael...' Geoff started worriedly. 'It's incredibly hard to do something like that-'

'How would you know?!'

'-but it's honest to God for the best.' He cut off when Michael's eyes met his, gaze burning holes with fury and rage barely concealing ocean depths of pain.

'If you say it's for the best one more time...' Michael warned, entire body trembling, and Geoff took it as his cue to stop that train in its tracks, instead deciding to be deadly honest with the breaking man.

'I can't help you, Michael,' he said, meeting the other man’s gaze when it shot to him. 'I can't say a single thing right now that will make any of this better, or do anything that will fix it all. Nothing,' he emphasised, 'I can't perform a magic spell that will ease your pain, or go back in time before I gave you that fucking paper, even though I wish I fucking could.'

Michael was silent, staring at him.

'And I wish I didn't have to tell you this, because I love you like my own son and there's nothing more I want in the world right now than to take your pain away and _help you._ But I can't.'

'What am I meant to do, Geoff?' Michael whispered, eyes trained now on his knuckles turning white from gripping the bottle so hard. The silence that met his question only made the tears blurring his vision come faster. 'Is there anything?' he questioned, and Geoff felt his own eyes prickle at the uselessness he felt.

'No,' he said honestly. 'But there are things you can't do. You can't keep this up.' He began prying the bottle out of Michael's death grip. 'You can't stay in this room and listen to him in pain. You can't avoid everyone forever, and you can't hate yourself for this.'

Michael's head rose slowly. 'Just watch me.'

'No. I won't let you destroy yourself. You know what he is, Michael? What that man down there, right now is?'

'In pain?' A self-depreciating laugh.

'A murderer. Three kids. Three beautiful, happy kids that died by his hand when they were meant to live on for a long time and die with kids of their own, who are now buried six feet under and never coming back.'

As if he could sense Michael's hesitance, Geoff's tone turned colder.

'No matter what he tried to tell you, no matter what he said-'

'He didn't.'

'What?'

'He didn't try.'

Rather than barrel mindlessly into pointing out the obvious, that that meant he was probably guilty, Geoff bit his tongue, and he was rewarded when Michael opened his mouth again.

'He never said he didn't. He never denied it, or begged for forgiveness, or tried to convince me otherwise. He never said he was innocent.'

'But he implied otherwise?' Geoff pushed.

'He...' But at that moment Michael's eyes shuttered and he cut himself off, mouth closing with an audible snap as he hauled himself to his feet. 'Go, Geoff.'

'I don't-'

'I'm not going to do anything stupid. I just want to be alone,' Michael interrupted.

‘I believe you,’ Geoff replied gently.

‘Then go!’

‘But I’m also not stupid enough to leave you alone right now.’

Michael’s jaw jutted and his clenched fist twitched, and the step forward he took was immediately countered by the defensive stance Geoff adopted. ‘C’mon,’ Geoff urged when Michael froze in his tracks. ‘Hit me.’

‘No,’ Michael ground out, eyes averted.

‘Hit me,’ Geoff challenged.

‘No,’ Michael replied, his voice rising despite his best efforts to keep quiet.

‘Hit me.’ That same stupid, calm tone. Like he knew Michael would give in and he was just awaiting the inevitable. ‘Take a swing.’

‘I’m not going to-’

‘Hit me, Michael!’

‘No!’

‘Just-’

‘I’m not going to hit you, Geoff, shut the fuck up!’

This finally seemed to come through to Geoff, who stood down from his position with confusion evident on his features. ‘Why not?’ he asked, bewildered.

Michael was still on edge, fists clenched in balls and ready to swing. But he didn’t. ‘Because.’

‘Because…?’

And with that Michael crumpled. That was the only way to describe it, the only way to express how his eyes flickered and he unconsciously grabbed the table edge next to him in an effort to counter how he swayed.

‘Because,’ he said, and it sounded like he was pleading. ‘Because I’m sick of hurting people. Because I’m sick of getting angry all the time. Because I’m sick of everyone expecting me to hurt people because that’s all I do! I have a goddamn job revolving around that because that’s all my life _is_! And whenever I find something happy I just… I destroy it.’

At this Geoff’s eyebrows, which had shot through the roof the minute the first words had come out of Michael’s mouth, furrowed. ‘What-’

‘I’m so sick of it, Geoff.’ 

And Geoff realised. ‘This is about him, isn’t it?’ he asked quietly. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Michael, offering the only thing he could – comfort. He felt Michael begin to shake apart in his arms.

‘I hurt him so much. I beat him and abused him and- and-’

‘It’s okay, buddy. It’s alright,’ Geoff soothed, running a hand through his hair.

‘And I loved him, too.’

Geoff froze.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to all those who stuck to the story so far and their neverending support, I present to you this.
> 
> read & review, yo

 After many hours, long silences and a forced location change courtesy of Geoff, Michael was in a foreign bed, knees drawn to his chest and staring out the window. It had taken a long time and a lot of energy to convince Geoff to leave him alone, to convince the man that the only thing that could help fix Michael right now was a little bit of alone time and some silence.

Fix him, because he was breaking.

Maybe he couldn't hear Gavin anymore. Maybe he didn't need to. Michael's entire body was filled with phantom pain, rebelling against himself, telling him he was making a mistake here, he wasn't doing the right thing, _he was wrong._

Currently, he was in a spare cottage, far from where he could possibly hear Gavin, far from any alcohol or anything he could use to get his mind off of the mess that was now his life. Of course, with nothing to get his mind off it, he had no choice but to focus on it. So for hours he tortured himself, sitting silent on the outside but internally tearing apart on the inside, just staring out that moonlit window. He would have continued like that indefinitely, until he saw a flash of movement, the near silent swish of a cloak and the muted thud of someone landing.

And a moment later, a dagger to his neck. He nearly laughed.

‘Go ahead,’ he murmured, staring at Ray. ‘I know you want to.’

The dagger against his neck pressed infinitesimally harder, and Michael couldn’t imagine the depths of patience Ray had to reign to not slit his throat right then and there. ‘You’re damn right I do,’ he hissed.

‘Then what’s the problem?’ Michael asked. Ray’s nostrils flared. ‘I don’t doubt you could kill me, rescue Gavin and get out of here without a problem.’

‘I could,’ Ray confirmed.

Michael gestured vaguely for him to do so.

Ray stared at him for a few long moments before drawing back. ‘I wanted to know why.’

‘Why what?’ Michael asked dully.

‘Why’d you hand him over? Why did you do everything you did for him, yet turn him over anyway?’

‘I handed him over because he’s a murderer,’ Michael said quietly. ‘And that’s what you do. To murderers.’ It lacked conviction even to his own ears, and he stopped talking then, knowing he couldn’t convince anyone let alone himself.

‘ _Murderers_ ,’ Ray scoffed, but he didn’t stop staring at Michael. ‘What does that make you?’

‘I take them to their deaths, because they deserve it. They kill innocent people.’

‘Yeah?’ Ray asked. He leaned in, scrutinising Michael, before his face softened ever so slightly. He almost looked sorry for him. ‘You really don’t know, do you.’

Michael didn’t want to ask. He felt he was being baited, but something inside him screamed for him to take it. The answers were right there, in the form of a deadly assassin who had death on his mind and hated Michael more than he could imagine, yet was offering to give Michael what he’d been needing for a long, long time.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to know.

‘Know what?’ he finally asked, giving in.

‘He’s not a murderer, Jones,’ Ray said, shaking his head. ‘Not of innocent people. Did you really think he was? Did you really look him in the eye and see the face of a murderer?’

Michael didn’t respond.

‘You want to know the truth, Michael?’ Ray asked.

Michael nodded slowly.

‘Picture this. Two little girls, as pretty as the flowers they were growing in the goddamn front garden. Blonde, sisters, only young. Had an older brother who was mister fucking situation. Handsome, pulled the chicks, whatever you can imagine. Great family, good dynamic. Except it wasn’t. He was a fucked up kid, and he… he did something despicable. Two little girls, his own sisters, and he… well, you can imagine, can’t you?’

He seemed to be waiting for an answer, a confirmation that Michael was at least following the story so far, so Michael gave another slow nod and tried to breathe while it felt like his chest was crushing in on his lungs.

‘Gavin… he’s a great kid. He’s the best. When you’ve known him all your life like I have, maybe you would understand. But when he heard screams and he ran inside and found that…. Well, I guess he just flipped. Took the older brother by the throat and strangled the life out of him. So I guess you were right in that aspect, hey. He did kill someone.’

Ray leaned in, painfully close.

‘He just happened to kill a murderer. And a rapist. I guess you could say he’s like you, except you don’t consider yourself a murderer, do you?’

Michael barely managed to make himself speak, swallowing hard and saying ‘He said he killed them all.’

Ray just shook his head, looking disgusted. ‘For fuck’s sake, you’re not that fucking stupid. He’s got a heart of gold and more insecurities than anyone on the fucking planet. He was too late, arrived to a room covered in blood and two girls who… who needed help, and he was too late to help them. There was a chance he could have saved them, I'm not denying that, but we don't know for sure. We _don't know._ But Gavin says it’s his fault they died, because he was too busy killing their brother to check if they were still alive.’

He spoke, not harshly, more as if he was stating the facts of a case, but his eyes never left Michael’s.

‘I imagine they weren’t, because their brother was very thorough.’

Michael launched himself forward and wrapped his hands around Ray’s throat. He didn’t squeeze, and the assassin didn’t stop him, though Michael knew he could. He simply stood and watched him with barely concealed hate.

‘Are you going to try and kill me or stand around with your hands sitting on my throat?’ he asked cooly. Michael’s hands flexed.

‘Why didn’t he fucking tell me?’ he demanded. ‘Why wouldn’t he say that? Why didn’t he goddamn _tell me?!_ ’

‘Maybe he thought you didn’t want to know.’

‘No! I asked him! I asked him, and he said… he said he couldn’t tell me.’

‘Then I suppose he didn’t want to tell you.’

‘But he loved me!’ Michael cried, and finally dug his hands in. A moment later he was against the wall, hands behind his back and dagger to his throat.

‘You’re right he loved you!’ Ray yelled. Somehow, with what godly magic Michael yearned to know of, he calmed himself down. ‘He loved you, and he came back for you, and you goddamn turned him in. What do you think would have happened if you’d waited a few more minutes, Michael?’

Ray moved back a step, cloak swishing, and the only thing stopping Michael from crumpling to the ground was some pathetic measure of pride. ‘Why the _fuck_ do you think he came back?'

And Jesus, Michael knew.

'If you’d just waited a few more moments, he would have told you.’

The truth was ringing in Michael’s ears, pounding against his brain, starbursts of light behind his eyes and he nearly bit through his tongue in an effort not to fall apart.

Now Ray’s voice was soft, almost as if he was pleading. ‘That’s why he came back. To tell you. He thought he could make you understand, he was adamant about it. I tried to convince him… He ran away from me, you know that?’

Ray laughed quietly, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t realise it at first. He said he just needed a day alone to get his shit together, and I believed him. I came back almost two days later and he was gone, and I fucking knew. I knew the moment I saw the unslept in bed, and I knew that once he was here you would turn him in.’

‘Why didn’t you stop him?’ Michael croaked.

‘Why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t you fucking _give him a chance?’_

And with that, the conversation seemed to be over. Ray stepped back and shook his head, dagger in place and concealed on his body.

‘I hope the money was worth it,’ he sneered, and he climbed onto the window sill in one swift movement.

Michael watched him as if it was slow motion, watched his muscles tense as he prepared to launch himself onto the cold ground below and take the only possible chance Michael had with it. He watched, and it was only as Ray moved to spring that he found his voice.

‘Take me with you,’ he whispered. Ray paused and turned back, staring at him. Michael cleared his throat. ‘To rescue Gavin.’

When Ray didn’t respond, still staring at him, Michael forced himself to speak again. ‘You can’t expect me to find that out and not want to at least try and save him.’

Ray’s expression suggested that yes, he did think that, but since he wasn’t out the window and halfway to Gavin by now Michael thought maybe he had a chance.

Michael wanted to say, _I need to save him,_ but that seemed the wrong thing to say. So he looked up at Ray and said ‘He needs to be saved.’

Ray hesitated. ‘I can save him.’ 

‘I know. Please,’ Michael murmured. Ray looked him over, chewing his lip.

‘Give me one good reason that I should even let you near him,’ he said, and Michael didn’t even hesitate.

‘It’s simple. I love him.’

A second later a dagger was in front of his face, glinting in the moonlight, and Michael stared at it. Then Ray flipped it, catching the sharp blade in nimble fingers and offering the hilt to Michael. Michael accepted it, climbing up on the window beside him and staring at the office above the basement that held Gavin captive.

‘With Gavin? Nothing's ever simple.’ Ray told him, and they jumped down together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm dat assassin Ray doe right


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeere
> 
> read & review, yo <3

Together the two of them made their way down through darkness shrouded streets, so close they were nearly touching, tension and... something, Michael couldn't name what, riding high in the air between them.

Ray led the way, checking every junction and every dark corner with a fluency that came natural to him. Michael was directly behind him, his eyes at their backs and on high alert. He was more than aware of their plan, of the incredulousness and the difficulty and the doubt that was crawling up his neck and sending shivers down his spine. But he thought of Gavin, thought of that dark room with its bloodstained walls and its glinting steel tools, and despite the shudder that ran through him he took strength from it and forced himself on.

He tried his best to ignore the fear that was swelling in him; fear for Gavin, for what would happen if they were discovered, for the feeling in him that was telling him he was too late.

He was scared his friends- hell, his _family-_ would discover them and try and intercept him, and he didn’t know if he could hurt them. Put them down and out for the count maybe, but never severely hurt them, and never kill them.

He glanced at Ray and knew he wouldn’t hesitate, and that scared him, too.

They pushed past the last of the residential areas and into where the office sat, tall and empowering. As they advanced, tiny shadows obscured by the dark night around them, Michael felt the fear swirl nauseatingly in his stomach. The assassin at his twelve didn’t seem hesitant in the slightest. Hell, Ray looked eager, and Michael imagined he was.

He obviously cared about Gavin. Michael couldn’t fathom why he was allowing him to come along. 

‘You better not fuck this up,’ Ray murmured, suddenly at his side with his lips pressed against Michael’s ear.

A beat of silence: the careful choosing of words.

‘I can’t afford to,’ Michael responded, and it was the absolute cold truth.

Ray side eyed him as he moved off again through the darkness, not even needing to look where he was going. ‘You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?’ he asked.

‘I haven’t had any idea what I was doing for a long time,’ Michael laughed dryly.

Ray seemed to know he was talking about Gavin and dropped the subject, the only thing furthering it being the understanding glance he sent his way before he changed topic and let out a long suffering sigh.

‘Here’s the plan. We are going to climb that wall. Then you are going to walk in the front entrance, and I’m going to sneak in the back. You’re going to bluff your way downstairs and into the basement, where you will leave the door unlocked. I’ll follow you in. We’ll secure the area,’ he looked meaningfully at Michael, ‘and escape out one of the windows.’

‘That’s all?’ Michael asked.

‘What do you mean is that all?’

‘Just scale the fence and walk right in. I thought it’d be something flashy and cool.’

Ray looked vaguely offended.

‘Not that… it’s not cool or flashy,’ Michael backtracked, momentarily distracted. ‘Just…’

‘Effective?’ Ray supplied. Michael shrugged.

‘I guess. What happens after? Like, then what?’

 ‘Then… we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,’ Ray said. He held out his hand and Michael gripped it, silent communication passing between them, and a moment later Ray dropped to one knee and cupped his hands together.

Michael took the hint and backed up, giving himself a bit of a run up, jumping into Ray’s hands and using the momentum of the assassins lift to balance precariously on the spiked top, feet awkwardly situated between two spikes. Using the balance skills acquired over years of his life and a big fuck you to gravity and probably physics in general, Michael leaned over and offered a hand for Ray.

Ray took his own run up, longer than Michael’s but allowing him to continue up the wall higher, high enough to grab Michael’s hand. Despite the jolt he originally gave him, Ray seemed nearly weightless, and Michael barely suppressed an eye roll when he realised Ray was stepping quickly up the wall, relying solely on momentum and Michael’s centre of gravity in some flashy show of abilities.

He reached the top and together, they dropped the long, _painful_ drop to the hard ground below.

‘Supposedly unclimbable my ass,’ Michael muttered, shaking his head. Ray shot him a questioning look. ‘The fence. Meant to be unclimbable.’

Ray just scoffed and shook his head before gesturing for Michael to go forward. A second later he melted into the background, and the last Michael saw of him was the tail of his coat as he slipped seamlessly into the shadows.

Michael took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, steeling himself. He straightened his back, brushed off imaginary dirt off his shirt and with another deep breath pushed the door to the office open. He waved to Kara and offered her a smile which she returned, albeit confusedly.

He just smiled again and continued walking, posture purposefully casual and gait measured, looking for all the world as if he was meant to be there. When he arrived through the first floor and to the stairs with no interruptions he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

And someone called his name.

‘Michael?’ A familiar voice called. Michael cursed and spun to face them, a smile plastered on his face.

‘Kerry! Watcha doin’ here?’ he asked, smile becoming more forced by the second.

Kerry gave him a weird look. ‘I could ask you the same thing,' he said pointedly.

‘Aren’t you normally on gate duty?’

‘Well yeah, but I don’t live at the post. I came to get my clothes so I could go home. What are you doing here?’

Michael waved a hand, but when Kerry wasn’t fooled he sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘I guess you heard about the whole Free escapade, huh?’ 

‘Yeah, me and the rest of the planet.’

‘Shut up, Kerry. Anyway, I just… it feels good to have him in our clutches after all that, you know? I just wanted to see it.’

At this Kerry relaxed, looking more at ease. ‘Oh. Okay. Well, have fun or whatever.' He turned and went to leave but Michael stopped him.

‘Oi, uh, Kerry, I don’t s'pose you know who’s on down there?’ he asked, hoping it wasn’t too much.

But Kerry just furrowed his brow and pulled a face. ‘Ryaaan?’ he drew out, chewing it over. ‘Yeah, I think just Ryan.’

‘Alright, cool. Thanks.’

'Stay sharp, Michael.' And with those parting words Kerry waved and left and Michael finally started down the stairs. He stopped in front of the door before cursing himself and ducking back upstairs, thinking fast.

Ryan and Gus were normally the main two in the torture chamber, and since he would take Kerry’s word that Ryan was the only one down there Gus would have to be up here somewhere. Michael hurried to the coat hooks and quickly felt down all the pockets, hoping against hope the key would be sitting in one of them, but to no avail.

He groaned and quickly made his way down the hallway again. Gus would probably be in the coffee room, where he practically lived if he wasn’t downstairs. It was possible he was in the-

Holy shit, there he was. He was making his way across the hallway, and Michael was confused for a second before he realised he was heading to the men’s. Gus pushed the door open and went inside, which left Michael with a precious few moments of planning time.

He’d barely thrown the idea together when Gus exited again, coming his way. Michael waited until he was close and stepped around the corner, slamming into him.

‘Oh shit, sorry Gus!’ he cried, backing away.

The man looked up at him, annoyed expression conveying a solid _what the fuck?_

‘What the fuck?’ he demanded, true to himself. Smug bastard. ‘Aren’t you guys meant to have a fucking sixth sense or something? Fucking idiot.’

He sighed, and without a second glance at Michael continued stalking down the hall.

Michael waited a second before following, taking a left where Gus had gone right and arriving back at the stairs. Before he descended he groaned at himself and backtracked again, slipping inside the unlocked arsenal and picking up a sword. Not his, but it’ll do.

_Please, God, don’t let it come to this._

Exiting the arsenal he quickly made his way back to the stairs and walked down them. He fished the stolen keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door, closing it behind him with a gentle thud and making sure the lock didn’t click back into place.

Only to come face to face with Ryan.

‘Oh! Holy _shit!_ Christ all fucking mighty Ryan holy goddamn _fuck_ you scared the shit out of me!’ Michael cried, hand clutching his racing heart as if to stop it from beating out of his chest. ‘Jesus. Give a girl some warning.’

Ryan just looked amused, in a vaguely creepy, threatening way. ‘Sorry to scare you, Michael,' he said, not sounding very sorry at all, and took a step back. Michael’s reply got caught in his throat when he saw the room behind Ryan.

Blood covered the walls. It was always like that, but to think that Gavin’s blood was now added to the mess, his life force painting Ryan’s masterpiece... it made Michael’s chest constrict. But that wasn’t even the most worrying thing.

What worried him most was the empty chair in the middle of the room.

‘Where's Gavin?’ he choked out, fearing the worst.

Ryan shook his head. ‘We moved him,' he said, and Michael didn’t know whether to feel relieved or confused.

‘Why?’ he asked, and Geoff stepped into the room. ‘...Oh.’ 

‘Yeah, oh. What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?’ Geoff demanded, eyes narrowed.

‘How did you-’

‘I came to check on you, because I was fucking worried. I saw the empty bed and I _knew_ you’d be doing something stupid like this, I fucking knew it. What did you think this was gunna accomplish, huh? What were you gunna do once you actually got here?’

Michael didn’t reply, and Geoff took it as cue to carry on.

‘What, you thought you’d set him free, did you? Jesus, Michael, I know you cared about him, but you have to think about this shit!’

‘You were going to set him free?’ Ryan asked, eyes on Michael. Geoff paled slightly.

‘Well that was just what I assumed, I mean I don’t know if he was going to-’

‘Were you?’ Ryan asked again. Michael nodded mutely, eyes flicking to the ceiling for a brief second before dropping back to Ryan’s. Without a word, Ryan drew his sword and began to walk over to Michael when a figure dropped onto Geoff from above. It got _slightly_ chaotic, with Michael and Ryan holding swords at each other, Geoff disarmed and held at dagger point by Ray, and a whole lot of yelling being done by everybody.

Eventually Michael’s voice rang out over them all and everybody quieted.

‘Okay,’ he panted, ‘Let’s get this straight. I have absolutely no intentions to harm anybody in this room, and despite what it looks like neither does Ray.’

‘You’re right, it doesn’t look like that,’ Geoff shot back immediately, looking annoyed at the weapon to his throat.

‘If he wanted to, you'd all be dead. We just want to rescue Gavin and get out. _Please_.’

Geoff was already shaking his head when Ryan spoke up. ‘We can’t let that happen,' he said, and Geoff nodded his agreement.

‘We can’t let a murderer back out into the wild,’ he stated. ‘You _know that,_ Michael.’

‘No, listen to me, Geoff. Please, let’s all put our fucking weapons down and just talk this out.’

‘No. I don’t trust him,’ Ryan stated, nodding towards Ray. The man in question just flipped him off.

Michael took a moment to frown at him. ‘You didn’t even need me to open the door,’ he accused, momentarily sidetracked.

Ray shrugged. ‘Wanted to make you feel useful. Like I said, a one man job.’

Michael chose to ignore that and refocus on the issue at hand. ‘Alright, fine,’ he directed at Geoff. ‘I’ll tell you like this.’ He swallowed hard and looked at the ground. ‘Just, shut it. Don’t interrupt. Gavin’s not a murderer. Hear me out,’ he hurried on when Geoff immediately opened his mouth, ‘just listen.’

He glanced to Ray, who gave him a surprisingly gentle smile, encouraging him to continue.

‘He’s not a murderer. If he’s a murderer, I’m a murderer, and I’m no less at fault than he is. Because the only person he ever killed was in defence of the two little girls.’

Geoff sucked in a breath at that, a question on his lips, but Michael barrelled on.

‘Their older brother. He …  did things to them that you’d never wish upon anyone. And then he killed them. He beat them to death, and Gavin walked in on it.’ Michael stopped, realising he didn’t have the details, and turned to Ray to pick up the thread.

‘He was an innocent traveller, a by-product of this mess. He heard their screams and tried to save them. He strangled the brother but it was too late, the damage was done and the girls were dead. And to top it all off, their parents chose that moment to come home and find them. They walked in on Gavin, with his hands around their sons’ neck, and two bloodied bodies of their little girls beside him.'

His voice dropped. 'I don’t blame them for thinking it. But I do blame them for not listening.’

‘And we’re meant to take this on your word?’ Ryan asked, doubt conveyed clearly in his features, his tone, his stance.

Ray glared harder and drew himself up to full height. ‘My word is the word of a distinguished assassin, part of an elite clan and trusted member of certain societies. And for the record, yes.’

‘Right,’ Ryan said, shaking his head. He went to speak again when Michael moved suddenly, catching him off guard and disarming him. Ryan went to swing but Michael ducked, sweeping out with his leg and knocking Ryan’s legs out from under him.

But instead of landing on the hard ground Ryan was steadied by Michael, who placed his sword just out of reach of both of them. Ryan stared at him, trying to read him.

‘If you don’t take it on his word, take it on mine,’ Michael said lowly. 

‘Michael…’ Geoff started.

‘I believe him, Geoff. I was with him for weeks, night and day. You don’t know… not like I do.’

Ryan and Ray were silent, watching the communication intently.

‘Have I ever been wrong before, Geoff?’ Michael asked, switching tactics. When he was met with silence he continued, hope daring to kindle in his too tight chest. ‘Exactly. When someone was stealing from the office, I knew who it was. When nobody was sure if JJ was a good guy, I knew he was. My instinct… it’s never, never let me down. You _know_ that.’

‘You’re in love, Michael. Things change,’ Geoff said softly.

‘Then _why_ did I feel it long before I ever fell for him?’

Geoff didn’t seem to have an answer for this. He shrugged at Ray’s dagger in annoyance and the assassin took the hint, moving back after getting a confirmation nod from Michael. Geoff sighed and moved towards the youngest hunter.

Michael took a final step and drew the older man into a hug. ‘Please, Geoff,’ he murmured into his shoulder, ‘you _have_ to believe me.’

He straightened and pulled away, arm’s length from Geoff. He looked at Ryan, nodded gently at Ray. ‘I would rather die than let you hurt him anymore. He’s innocent.’

‘And you absolutely, completely believe that?’ Geoff asked. Michael met his eyes and nodded. Geoff took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder. ‘And you?’ he directed at Ray.

‘Yes, sir,’ the assassin responded. ‘I know it.’

Geoff leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands, scrubbing his face wearily.

Ryan cleared his throat and all the attention in the room turned to him. ‘You realise what this means, Michael?’

Geoff’s head shot up and the worried look returned tenfold. ‘We can’t set him free.’

‘What?’

‘Burnie won’t let him go. It's not up to him, or us. He’s under orders from higher ups, and it’s all their asses on the line. We can’t sacrifice an entire workforce of people for the sake of one person.’

Michael looked shell-shocked, Ray remained silent in the corner. His mind racing, Michael managed to grasp an idea. ‘Then we’ll run away.’

Silence met his statement.

‘What?’ Geoff managed. In unison, Ryan and Ray narrowed their eyes thoughtfully.

‘I… _we,_ ’ he gestured to Ray, ‘will break him out of here. We overpowered Ryan, who was the only one down here, untied Gavin, and escaped. It was hours before you came around.’

‘It gives us enough time to get well away from here. I know some places,’ Ray said, nodding his head.

‘It… makes sense. Theoretically,’ Ryan allowed, since Michael was looking to him in confirmation.

‘No!’ Geoff interrupted. ‘Absolutely not! Michael, can you fucking hear yourself?’

Ray’s hand twitched towards his dagger, but stilled when Michael shot him a dirty look. ‘Look, Geoff,’ he said, turning back to his pseudo father, ‘I know it sounds insane. But you have to understand. This is _Gavin_ , and I need him.’

Geoff didn’t miss the pain behind the words, the need and the longing, nor did he miss the way Michael’s voice wrapped around Gavin’s name as if it was a caress.

‘What if he doesn’t want you?’ Geoff tried, and almost regretted it when Michael blanched.

Ray shook his head. ‘That won’t happen,’ he stated.

‘If it… comes to that… then I imagine he will leave without me,’ Michael managed, as if the words pained him to say.

‘It won’t,' Ray said confidently, though he looked almost frustrated with it. Michael realised he was angry, angry that his friend could be so stupidly selfless.

Fuck it, Michael could relate.

‘What if…’ Geoff started, but he came up with nothing.

Michael swallowed and stepped up to him again, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘I need to do this, Geoff. I knew, knew for a long time and never accepted it but now I have proof and a chance to save him, and make this alright. What if this was Griffon? If this was Griffon, wouldn’t you?’

Geoff didn’t answer, staring at Michael with pained eyes.

‘I need to do this, Geoff,’ Michael whispered. ‘I love him.’

'You're choosing to give up everything, your whole life you've built here, all your connections and spend a life on the run, for him?'

Michael smiled sadly. 'I spent so long hurting him, Geoff. But I swear to God, I’m going to spend the rest of eternity protecting him.’

They stared at each other a few more moments before Geoff nodded, and Michael pulled him into a relieved hug. The moment was broken by Ray, who clapped his hands twice and grinned.

'Let's do this.'


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm crying slightly I just  
> shoutout to everybody  
> everyone  
> who has left reviews or kudosed or bookmarked, or even if you didn't and just read the story because every little thing impacted positively on me and just thank you all, for your kindness and helpfulness and interest  
> thank you <3

The keys to the cellar clinked in Ryan’s hand, the ominous sound the only thing breaking the silence. The four shadowed figures hunched around the door as it was pulled open, quickly slipping in one by one.

When they were safely inside and the door was relocked behind them, they flipped their hoods down and turned to face each other in the darkness.

‘He’s in the lowest level,’ Geoff said, but Ray was already moving off with Michael hot on his heels. Geoff couldn’t find it in him to roll his eyes, instead sharing a look with Ryan and moving to follow. A few tense minutes later they had descended the last of the stairs and were standing in a low ceiling room.

Together, they moved towards the only closed door in the room. Michael glanced at Ray and reached out to turn the knob, hand trembling slightly. With a shaky breath he clasped the handle and turned it, pushing the door inwards and stepping inside.

He heard a quiet intake of breath, and heard rather than saw the hunched figure in the corner shy away from him. Michael tried to speak but couldn’t, found his lips moving soundlessly. He cleared this throat, and when Gavin whimpered slightly, he didn’t try to stop the name that tumbled from his lips.

‘Gavin?’

Ryan flicked the light on and Michael came face to face with the foreign man. He felt his chest seize up at the look of fear on Gavin’s face, the betrayal and the confusion when he saw Ray, but he ignored it in favour of dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around Gavin.

‘Gavin,’ he whispered, voice hoarse, relief flooding him at seeing him alive and safe even though he was so painfully hurt. ‘Gavin, Gavin, Gavin.’ he said, over and over again, feeling the man in his arms begin to shake. Michael was painfully aware that Gavin wasn’t touching him, wasn’t making a move to touch him back, when he felt thin arms wrap themselves hesitantly around his back.

‘Michael?’ came the whisper, and suddenly he was being squeezed incredibly hard. ‘Michael!’

‘Yeah,’ was all Michael could manage, tears prickling hot and painful in his eyes as he felt Gavin give a hitched sob. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Gavin whispered, voice muffled by his shirt. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Michael repeated, over and over, and he would have apologised until he had no voice except he heard Geoff clear his throat and step forward.

Refusing to let go, Michael pivoted the two of them so they could face Geoff. The man looked pained watching them, but Michael couldn’t name the other emotions that normally showed so vividly in his sleepy eyes.

‘If you’re going to do this, you have to hurry up,’ Geoff warned, trying to be stern and distant, but his voice cracked on the last word and betrayed him.

‘I know,' Michael said, but he couldn’t force himself to let go. He felt Gavin tense in his arms, and he turned to face him, gaze unconsciously zoning in on every injury.

‘Do what?’ Gavin whispered, staring at him. Michael blinked at the fear in his voice, on his face, and he quickly pulled him back to his chest.

‘We’re letting you go,’ Geoff answered for him. The small intake of breath Gavin made was audible in the room.

‘It’s okay, Gav. They’re okay,’ Ray said, in response to some unspoken question.

Steeling himself, Michael forced himself to pull away. He ran his hands down his face and instead of ignoring the injuries on Gavin, forced himself to painstakingly note every single one. His face was bruised and bloody, probably just show, he had several lacerations on his chest, all relatively shallow – for pain, rather than to bleed him out. He had burn marks on his neck and _Jesus,_ all his fingernails were gone. He could assume the same went for his toenails. It was an effective, non-lethal form of torture.

Michael had seen it before. But he’d never, ever, felt guilt like this. Nothing compared to the agony he was feeling. Every single mark on Gavin was a white hot knife to his heart, stabbing over and over and over again.

_His fault._

He felt himself stiffen when Gavin ran a hand absentmindedly over one of the cuts, and he was about to apologise again when Gavin sucked a breath in and shrank back, looking terrified. Michael was instantly on high alert, wheeling around to face the threat, and instead saw Ryan stepping out from behind Geoff with an apologetic smile on his face.

Michael glanced back to Gavin, huddling into the wall, and it clicked. ‘Ryan’s not going to hurt you anymore,’ he hushed immediately, reaching out. ‘He’s okay. He’s here to set you free, just like Ray and I.’

‘Don’t forget me, asshole.’ Geoff’s joke was forced, but it lightened the atmosphere a tiny bit.

‘This isn’t some dream?’ Gavin asked, words running together in his rush to get them out. He was glancing between Ryan and Michael rapidly, obviously not sure what to believe. It was Ray who once again acted as a balm and soothed his understandably frayed nerves.

‘I’m too hot to be a figment of your dreams,' he scoffed, pushing past Michael and ruffling Gavin’s hair. He ignored the flinch Gavin gave, and when he made no move to hurt him Gavin nodded.

‘Okay,’ he murmured, but he still stayed far from Ryan.

Michael swallowed down the lump in his throat and turned to Geoff. ‘What’s the plan, boss?’ he managed to ask. Geoff offered him a small smile that he quickly gave up on, instead beckoning Michael to the side and leaving Gavin and Ray to talk.

Ray pulled Gavin into his arms and that’s the last thing Michael saw before Geoff spun him around, looking more serious than Michael had ever seen him.

‘You’re _sure_ about-’

‘Yes, Geoff.’

‘Alright. I know, I just wanted to…’

Michael understood. ‘I’m gunna miss you so fuckin’ much, Geoffrey. You have no idea.’

Geoff nodded and sniffed forcefully before pulling Michael into a tight embrace. ‘You keep in contact with me, you understand? I don’t care _how,_ just keep it subtle. I’ll understand.’

‘I promise, Geoff. You’re like a dad to me. I love you, honest to god, you and Griffon. Make sure they know, and know I still love them. You’re family to me. I’m sorry…’ he began to trail off before he swallowed and met Geoff’s gaze. ‘I’m sorry. But I have to.’

Geoff nodded and just hugged him again. ‘Come back and visit, one day.’ Michael laughed. ‘When you have little you and Gavin’s running around, terrorising the place…’

Neither of them commented on how unlikely the idea of returning here seemed. Communication would be near impossible, because Geoff would be the first one they watched. He’d be under scrutiny and any comms would be carefully observed.

But they could do it. Ray was an assassin, and Michael and Geoff prestigious bounty hunters. They wouldn’t let anything come between them.

Geoff nodded one last time and let them go. ‘Don’t tell me where you’re going. Just go, and don’t get caught.’

‘I know,’ Michael nodded, and Geoff clapped him on the shoulders, hands hesitating there before finally breaking contact with him one last time. Michael felt a yearning, a pain that he’d be leaving his life, his family. 

He swallowed hard and moved away, striding forward and wrapping his arms around Gavin, feeling him alive and safe and _protected_ in his arms. ‘I swear on my fucking _life_ , nobody is going to hurt you,’ he murmured into Gavin’s shoulder, and instead of making a slight about it Gavin just nodded and hugged him gingerly back.

‘I believe you.’

‘I love you.’

Two beats of silence, followed by a shy smile. ‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

Michael released Gavin from his embrace and they both straightened, still holding close to one another.

‘I love you too, you dope. Have, for a long time.’

Michael smiled, glancing up and around at the men surrounding them. ‘Promise?’

Gavin laughed. ‘Promise.’

‘You guys are so sickly cute I think I’m glad you’re leaving,’ Geoff tried to joke, but the wetness reflected in his eyes gave him away. Michael blinked back his own tears before offering him a smile, and the older man just wiped his eyes and crossed his tattooed arms, chewing on his lip to prevent himself from crying. Michael turned and offered a hand to Ryan. Ryan didn’t hesitate before accepting it, and they ended up in a quick hug when Michael decided a handshake didn’t quite cover the gratitude he felt. Ray spoke up.

‘If either of you or your associates need anything, just ask around for Brownman. Someone will get word to me, and we’ll take care of it for you. It’s the least I can do.’

‘Thank you,’ Geoff nodded, still sniffing. ‘Now go, before I change my mind and drag you back.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Michael turned back to Gavin, moving quickly back to his side. The hunter nodded at Ray and the assassin ducked, allowing Gavin to climb easily onto his back. They moved quickly up to exit of the building, the gate towering foreboding and final only metres away.

Michael, Ray and Gavin shared a glance before they nodded and Michael turned and threw his arms around Geoff in one last hug. ‘You be good,’ Geoff managed, and Michael felt a lump form in his throat. ‘Be safe.’

‘I will, Geoff. I’ll come back, some day.’

Geoff nodded and forced himself back, wiping at his watery eyes with the back of his hand.

‘Goodbye,’ Michael said, and his voice cracked. With a final wave to the two shadowed figures standing at the entrance to the building, the three remaining men turned to face one another.

‘We’ll be okay, Michael,’ Gavin whispered, sensing the man’s pain. Michael nodded and leaned in to kiss him.

‘What about me?’ Ray teased, and Gavin leaned around to give him a peck on the cheek. Michael laughed, a sound that bubbled up and made everything seem a little more bearable. ‘That’s more like it. Think of it like this: It’s a whole new fucking adventure.’ Ray grinned, and Michael smiled.

‘Well, lads,' he murmured, sharing a look with them before turning to face the world ahead. 'Let’s do this.’

Together they began to run.

They didn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been amazing  
> to share this and get such positive feedback and amazing comments honestly  
> it made my day everytime  
> and I just wanted to say I have a ridiculous emotional connection with you guys and this story and i'm really emotional right now but  
> I hope you enjoyed it, and may it have been all you hoped it to be. 
> 
> and as always, read & review, yo  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [ragamuffiin](http://ragamuffiin.tumblr.com/) on tumblr <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Why?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419008) by [BritanniaFork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritanniaFork/pseuds/BritanniaFork)
  * [Three Men Walk Into a Bar...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289274) by [NobleZeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleZeda/pseuds/NobleZeda)




End file.
